#the edit ends so abruptly because I couldn’t find many clips of them together on YouTube lmao

[morg-among-the-stars]

The sillys <3

[hotpinkhoshi]

the pact (1)

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: sexual content, cursing, alcohol, cliche fwb to lovers, fuckboy!jb

word count: 6.5k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

A/N: this is the first fic i’ve posted in yearrsssss so please be kind! also, if there are any weird formatting issues please let me know, i had a hell of a time posting this and mostly could only edit on my ipad so it’s been rough. hopefully it looks normal on both the app and desktop website but if it doesn’t, send me a message!

↳ index here

This was not how movie night was supposed to have gone.

You’d had a rough day at work, only looking forward to one thing all day—having all your friends over for your monthly movie night that inevitably always ended up as a mess. Your co-worker, Yugyeom, and his best friend Bambam were usually the culprits, turning every movie into a drinking game. You’d come to expect it after the third time you’d had to push Bam out before he puked on your carpet.

Your two bedroom apartment was barely big enough for you, your roommate, and your four closest guy friends, but you made it work every month and it was just what you’d needed tonight after the day you’d had.

It wasn’t usually difficult work managing a bookstore, but this week had been one of your lowest yet with sales, and you’d had to field multiple customer complaints as well as employee drama. It’d been enough to build tension in your shoulders and make you especially thirsty for Yugyeom’s special sodas—three parts alcohol, one part Sprite.

It didn’t help that you’d just seen your longtime crush, Jaebeom, post on his Instagram story that he was out with a mystery girl you didn’t recognize but had everything you didn’t. Stylish clothes, ridiculous curves, natural beauty, and most importantly, she had Jaebeom.

You’d been pining after Jaebeom for as long as you could remember—since you were in middle school with him and Jinyoung, at least. You’d had a decent amount of boyfriends in the ten years that had passed since then, yet you couldn’t shake your infatuation.

To make your infatuation even worse, three weeks ago, you’d been out with the guys and when you ran into Jaebeom, he was three shots deep and you ended up making out with him in the men’s bathroom. It wasn’t quite the romantic encounter you’d built up in your head, but still. He had a way of kissing you that made you feel like maybe he’d been wanting you just as badly this entire time. But then that was it—besides a couple of random text messages, you’d barely spoken to him since then.

So you’d gone a little overboard and ended up on the kitchen floor, your head resting on your roommate Sana’s lap while Transformers played in the living room and the boys argued over autobots and decepticons.

“I just—he texted me last week, I told you, right? He asked what I was doing, but it was two in the morning so I didn’t see it until I woke up...”

Sana stroked your hair and let out an exasperated sigh. “You want me to be honest with you, right?”

“Yes, please.”

“Jaebeom is a textbook fuckboy. He texted you because he was horny and his other playthings probably ignored him, so you were likely the first female’s name that he saw while scrolling through his contacts.”

It was a harsh truth, but deep down you knew she was right. Still, it wasn’t so easy to just brush it off and forget about it. You couldn’t help wondering what exactly was wrong with you, why you weren’t good enough for him. Sure, you were a little bookish, and you weren’t skilled in the art of seduction, but he had kissed you. That meant something, didn’t it?

“Besides, I don’t even get why you like him so much. He doesn’t even have a real job—“

You interrupted, “He’s a musician!”

“—I said a real job. He’s not a musician, he’s a DJ that sometimes posts half assed thirty second clips on Soundcloud with vaguely sexual titles.”

You pouted, knowing that she was right, and buried your face into her lap. “But he’s so pretty,” you whined.

Sana rubbed your back like the good best friend she was. “I know, Y/N. I know. But he’s a scumbag, and there are better guys out there. Like, millions of them. He’s not worth laying on your kitchen floor crying over.”

“Who’s she crying over?”

You lifted your head to see Jinyoung standing in the kitchen doorway with the empty bowl of popcorn. Sighing, you pulled yourself up from the floor and slumped against the counter. “Is Jaebeom dating someone?”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow and set down the popcorn bowl, then grabbed a fresh beer out of the fridge. “How should I know?”

“I don’t know, you’ve known him forever,” you replied with a shrug. “Don’t guys like, tell each other that stuff?”

“No,” Jinyoung answered with a snort. “We say, ‘hey, what’s up, man? How’s life?’ And then we give a noncommittal response, say we should grab a drink sometime to catch up, and then we never do.”

You pursed your lips together, crossing your arms. “Well, he posted one of those mirror selfies with some girl I’ve never seen before. The caption was ‘late night with bae’.”

You were saved a snarky response from Sana when there was a sudden raise in the volume in the living room, indicating the guys were getting out of hand again. Someone was yelling about spilled soju and Bambam was making noise simply to make noise, it seemed.

“If they stained the couch, I’m going to kill them,” she muttered before huffing off, prepared to put her foot down and wrangle the boys back to a reasonable sound level. Your neighbors had already called the landlord last week when Jackson stood out on the balcony belting out Boyz II Men at passing men and women.

While Jinyoung rinsed out the popcorn bowl, you scrutinized him. He was an acceptable man, right? He had a steady job at a publishing house, he was polite, kind, and made you laugh. He always surprised you with advanced copies of your most anticipated reads and he was probably the source of half the sales at your store. And yet, there were no butterflies when you looked at him. Not like there were when you saw Jaebeom.

But he was attractive, objectively. Jackson had told you the last time you’d bothered him for advice that the best way to get over someone was to get under someone new. And sex didn’t always have to mean anything between friends...

“Why are you staring?” Jinyoung asked when he finally noticed you were practically studying him.

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing.”

After grabbing a water bottle to sober up, you headed back into the living room to finish watching the movie. Clearly this train of thought was the result of too many special sodas, considering you’d never once in your life looked at Jinyoung as more than a close friend. It had always been about Jaebeom for you.

Besides, he’d dated Yeri for five years. Two of those were long distance while she studied in the states, and they’d broken up just a couple of months ago not long after she returned. Maybe that was why you’d never seen him as an option.

Two hours later, Bambam and Yugyeom had abandoned your movie night after being invited out to a new club by some pretty girls. It was predictable at this point, and you’d rather have them getting smashed out on the streets than in your apartment.

Sana had left you, Jackson, and Jinyoung with the task of cleaning up fallen popcorn and throwing away the many empty bottles scattered throughout the apartment. She’d cleaned up last month, it was your turn this time.

You felt almost sober by the time everything was cleaned up and Jackson left to meet up with the other boys, unable to resist a night out. By the time you collapsed onto the couch and switched the TV off, the only remains of your alcohol was the heaviness in your limbs.

Jinyoung dropped onto the couch next to you, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Tired?” he asked you, brows raised.

“A little.” You shrugged and pulled your legs onto the couch underneath of you, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Mostly just exhausted from the week. I think it’s just now hitting me.”

“Mm,” he agreed, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch. “Me too. Tonight’s the first time I got to leave the office before eight o’clock.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “You work too hard.”

Jinyoung chuckled. “I like my job. I enjoy the work, most of the time. Keeps my mind occupied.”

That, you understood. You’d always been one to ignore your life’s problems by throwing yourself into work, and you knew it was one of the reasons you’d never had a successful relationship and found it hard to keep friends outside of the circle you’d always had.

Or, there could have been one other reason you hadn’t ever been able to stay with one person for too long—Jaebeom. As pathetic as it sounded, you’d always compared other guys to him, and they fell short every time.

You caught your mind wandering to him yet again and mentally slapped yourself. That was it, you had to find a way to forget about him. Once and for all.

“How did you get over Yeri?” You asked, somewhat abruptly. It caught Jinyoung off guard, you could tell. He’d been broken up with her for almost two months now, and hadn’t mentioned her in almost as long.

Jinyoung furrowed his eyebrows, chewing at his lip for a moment as if carefully choosing his words. “I don’t— I mean, maybe I’m not. Over her.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised. “You’re not? But it’s been two months, and I just kind of figured...”

He shrugged. “Some days are better than others. But every now and then, I feel like... like I’m still waiting for her to come back, and my whole life is on pause until she does.”

As far as you knew, Yeri had been the one to end things. Jinyoung was just too busy with work, he stayed late almost every night and she’d gotten tired of trying to schedule quality time with him weeks in advance. At least, that was as much as Jackson had told you.

You had no idea it would still be weighing on him, though. Jinyoung, of all people, was rarely shaken by anything. Always calm, calculated, and steady. No matter how long you’d known him, this was possibly the most he’d ever opened up to you.

“Sana thinks I need to get over my crush on Jaebeom,” you said as a slight change in subject, mostly because you had no experience in comforting Jinyoung and couldn’t begin to think of a proper response. “You know, for good.”

“You do,” Jinyoung responded with a light chuckle. “You’ve been obsessing over him since we were teenagers, and I have no idea why.”

You propped your sock covered feet on the coffee table, tipping your head back against the couch. “I don’t really know, either. I guess I just always thought... he’d settle down and want something serious, you know? He’d be done with the partying, the one night stands, the DJing, and he’d want...”

Trailing off, you chose not to finish the sentence because it was just too pathetic to say out loud. He’d want me.

Jinyoung was silent for a while before he leaned his shoulder into yours, a subtle gesture of comfort. “You deserve a lot better than him.”

When you were silent in response, Jinyoung nudged you again, more firmly this time. “Hey, you believe me, right? Don’t waste your worries on him, Y/N. There really are millions of better guys out there.”

Truthfully, you wanted to believe Jinyoung but there was still that nagging voice at the back of your head. Every relationship you’d ever had, and there weren’t many, had ended terribly. You’d been cheated on, lied to, and straight up ghosted. It was hard not to think maybe you were the problem.

You weren’t the most beautiful girl out there, you’d accepted that long ago. Not that you were hideous, but you knew there wasn’t much about your appearance that stood out to the average passerby. Looks weren’t everything, but they were still important.

“Would you have sex with me?” You blurted, realizing maybe you weren’t so sober after all. “I mean, hypothetically?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened and he stifled a cough, looking at you like you had two heads. “Sorry?”

“I mean,” you cleared your throat and stood up in front of him. Long sweater, leggings, faded makeup and all. “You’re a guy. If you saw me at a bar, or just walking on the street. Would you want to have sex with me?”

The tips of Jinyoung’s ears instantly turned a deep shade of pink and it looked for a moment as if he was trying to keep his eyes anywhere except your body. “I—“ he shook his head, then finally made eye contact with you. “Yes.”

It was a new feeling, seeing Jinyoung flustered like this. It didn’t happen often, but you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning. It occurred to you, suddenly, that Jackson might have been onto something.

“Do you want to... now?” You asked, faking confidence. Sex between friends didn’t have to mean anything, and you both had people you needed to get over. It made sense, at the end of the day. And you trusted him, you realized—a lot.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Jinyoung replied, shaking his head once more. “Why are you asking this right now?”

You took a deep breath. “You want to get over Yeri. I want to get over Jaebeom. It makes sense, right? We’re adults, we’re friends, and it wouldn’t be anything more than physical. Whenever we need to let off some steam or get our minds off of them, we can help each other.”  

He looked away again, but you could tell with the way his jaw worked that he was considering it. Still, maybe he was the wrong person to ask. Jinyoung had never had casual sex, at least not that you knew of. He was a serious relationship kind of guy. You may have been better off asking one of the other guys.

“Okay.”

When he answered, your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“You might have a point,” Jinyoung admitted. “Part of the reason I can’t get over Yeri is because she’s the only girl I’ve ever been with. Memories of her are everywhere. But maybe,” he sighed, running his tongue over his lips. “Maybe we could make some new ones.”

The corner of your lip quirked up and you felt the satisfaction of winning, which truly didn’t happen often with Jinyoung. He was one of the most stubborn people you’d ever known, always having a comeback or a way to turn it around in his own favor.

“So...” you started, trying to hide your fidgeting fingers in the sleeves of your sweater. You decided to just go for it, lowering yourself onto the couch with your knees on either side of Jinyoung’s hips.

It felt awkward. This was your childhood friend, and you were about to have sex with him with absolutely no feelings involved. But as you settled onto his lap and he slid his hands up your thighs, you began to relax.

“So,” Jinyoung repeated, gripping your waist under your sweater. His hands were big and warm, and you instantly felt safe in his grasp. “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”

When you nodded, Jinyoung leaned in slowly and carefully until his lips just barely brushed yours. He was gentle at first, until you tilted your head and kissed him back, your hands resting experimentally against his solid chest.

To be honest, it wasn’t bad. Jinyoung’s lips were soft and plump, and he kissed politely, waiting for permission to deepen it further.

So you gave it to him, sliding your arms around his neck and bringing your body flush against his, allowing his tongue entrance into your mouth. The two of you kissed until you were breathless, and you silently thanked the gods that Sana was a deep sleeper and there was little to no chance she’d walk in on you with your tongue down Jinyoung’s throat.

As polite as Jinyoung was, he didn’t hesitate to trace his hands up your bare sides, leaving goosebumps in his wake. It had been so long since you’d been touched like this, you’d forgotten how good it felt to be pressed up against a warm body, both of you desperately trying to get closer.

Even though he’d agreed to sleep with you, for some reason you were still surprised when you felt him harden underneath you. Part of you had been expecting him to end up repulsed or chicken out.

Something about the way he felt underneath of you had you rolling your hips into his, the obvious bulge in his pants pressing between your thighs just right. You let out a breathy moan into the kiss and Jinyoung pulled you down against him more firmly, one of his hands slipping down between your legs to rub you through your leggings.

A surprised moan slipped out and Jinyoung pulled away abruptly, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort. “Is that okay?”

You nodded quickly, grabbing his wrist and pressing his fingers back against your clit, sending warmth throughout your entire body. “Feels good,” you whispered, and you swore you felt Jinyoung’s cock twitch in his jeans.

“Bedroom?” Jinyoung asked, his fingers still drawing slow circles that were starting to make your brain fuzzy.

“Please,” you responded, and before you could make a move to stand up, Jinyoung was grabbing your thighs and wrapping them around his waist, lifting you from the couch like you weighed nothing. When had he gotten so strong?

He somehow got you to the bedroom smoothly, only stopping once to press you into the hallway and scatter kisses across your neck. Then he finally set you down after shutting your bedroom door behind you and you took the opportunity to lift his shirt up over his head.

You knew Jinyoung worked out regularly, but you had no idea he looked like that under his clothes. A firm chest, wide shoulders, and an actual six pack. If you’d known he was this ripped, maybe you would’ve tried to make this arrangement sooner.

“Seriously?” You asked, running your fingers down the lines of his abs. “Have you always looked like this?”

Jinyoung’s ears flushed again. “You know I like exercising. What did you expect?”

Shrugging, you settled your hands at his belt and ran your fingers along the metal of the buckle. “I don’t know. Now I’m a little scared to take your pants off, I mean, what have you got hiding there?”

He cringed, grabbing your hips and pulling you against him once more. “Oh, god. Please never say that again.”

Your giggle was cut off by Jinyoung’s lips pressing into yours again. This time the kiss was more heated, wet and punctuated by little nips to your lower lip. When he finally rid you of your sweater, you were so turned on you forgot to be insecure about him seeing your body for the first time.

Jinyoung laid you down on the bed, cradling his hand behind your head as it hit the pillows. His lips were on your collarbone in an instant and you slid your fingers through the soft strands of his hair, tugging in appreciation when he started sucking a hickey into your skin.

Tracing your sides with his fingertips once more, Jinyoung squeezed your hips and pulled back, sitting back on his heels to look down at you. His eyes raked your body from your face down to your waist, to where your legs were spread for him to lay between.

“Should we—“ Jinyoung swallowed, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. “Should we make some ground rules?”

It was fitting that he would be the one to suggest boundaries, but he had a point. Just because you trusted him and were both aware that it would be just sex, no feelings, didn’t mean it couldn’t get messy.

“Good idea,” you breathed, pushing hair out of your face. You’d never done this before, you didn’t even know where to start.

“Honesty,” Jinyoung started, his face looking quite serious despite the fact that he had a massive bulge in his jeans and he was naked from the waist up. “We tell each other what’s working, what’s not... what feels good, what doesn’t.”

Nodding, you agreed, “And, we have to tell each other if we start sleeping with someone else.”

“Or if we start to fall in love,” Jinyoung said, catching you off guard. Love? It hadn’t even crossed your mind.

He seemed to catch himself and cleared his throat, and you tried to ignore the adorable blush that was creeping onto the apples of his cheeks. “No feelings, right?”

You held your hand out. “Deal.”

Jinyoung smirked, then reached his hand out to clasp yours, shaking it just once. “Deal. Want me to eat you out now?”

You coughed in surprise. Was he always this forward with girls? If so, what was Yeri thinking walking away from him like that?

When you realized he wasn’t kidding, not even a little, as his hands played with the waistband of your leggings, you nodded once. “Okay. But I’m not—I wasn’t really expecting anyone to see me naked...”

Though you knew there was no good reason to be insecure, it was just Jinyoung, you squirmed your hips regardless when Jinyoung started to remove your leggings. “You want me to be honest?” He asked, tossing the ball of fabric behind him once you were left in just your bra and underwear.

“That’s the idea, right?”

“Right.” He scooted down the bed and laid between your legs, his shoulders nudging your knees apart to give him more room. “I don’t care. Most guys don’t. Besides, the underwear is cute.”

Blushing, you turned your face towards the pillow. You vaguely remembered mindlessly picking out a pair of snowmen underwear, simple cotton hipsters that were far from seductive. Though he said he didn’t care, you couldn’t help the knot of embarrassment in your stomach.

“Shut up.” You chewed your lip, then lifted your head to look down at him. “Guys really don’t care? About... what it looks like down there?”

Jinyoung held back another chuckle. “No. You care way more than we do, apparently. At the end of the day, if it’s the right guy, we just want to be inside of you. And if it’s really the right guy, we just want to make you feel good. Nothing else matters.”

It relieved some of your anxiety, but you still couldn’t look at his face as he pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them to the floor. You trusted him, more than most guys you’d ever met, but he was about to get closer to you than even some of the men you’d slept with.

“Relax,” Jinyoung whispered and you conceded, laying your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes. “Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

You nodded, tapping your hands awkwardly against the covers until you felt his fingers intertwine yours, holding them against the bed next to your hips.

He started slow. Kissing your thighs, building it up, getting closer and closer to your heat before finally, he licked one single strip from your entrance up to your clit. You whimpered involuntarily, not realizing how sensitive you’d be.

How long had it been, anyway? At least six months since the last time you’d had sex, and much longer since you’d had a man’s face between your thighs.

Then he locked his lips around your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking, until you were squeezing his hands so hard you were sure you left nail marks in his skin. You had to remind yourself Sana was just a couple of rooms over, and though she was a deep sleeper she’d most definitely wake up to you moaning at the top of your lungs.

“Faster,” you told him, still unable to open your eyes but he listened immediately, quickening the pace of his tongue against your clit. You whined breathlessly, hips lifting in an attempt to just feel more.

Jinyoung let go of one of your hands only to slide it down to meet just underneath his chin, taking the wetness that had gathered on two of his fingers before slowly inching them inside of you.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, moving your now free hand to clamp onto the back of Jinyoung’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. “Deep. Deeper, with your fingers,” you told him, words rushing together because you felt like you were going a little bit insane.

So he obeyed, pushing his fingers through your walls until he couldn’t go any further. He let you adjust, then began a slow, delicious pace inside of you. You could feel sweat pooling in your collarbone just from the heat Jinyoung was making you feel.

“Pull my hair,” Jinyoung whispered, and you didn’t have time to question it before you were doing as he said. He moaned into your clit and you arched your back, your mouth gaping open just as you remembered you needed to stay quiet.

He knew what he was doing, you could tell that much. Not only that, he enjoyed it. You could tell just from the quiet groans he’d let out when you clenched your walls around his fingers, like he was getting as much pleasure from this as you were.

“J-Jinyoung,” you stuttered, feeling the pressure start to build in your belly, your toes beginning to curl. He stared up at you, mouth still buried into your pussy. “I’m... I’m close, but I—“ you groaned. “I want you. Please.”

Within a second, Jinyoung was slipping his fingers from your folds, popping them into his mouth to get a taste and using his other hand to undo his belt. He worked fast, pushing his jeans down his thighs and kicking them off the bed with his underwear.

“Nightstand,” you breathed, taking your opportunity to check him out, head to toe. His dick was pretty. And that was truly the first time you’d ever thought that about anyone. You shifted your hips on the bed, desperate to have him fill you up.

It was new to feel this needy, and for Jinyoung of all people. The guy you’d known since you were both in your awkward phase, scrawny limbs and terrible clothing. He’d seen you throw up on your own shoes, and you’d seen him dance to Backstreet Boys at your high school talent show.

And yet, here you were, naked and wet underneath of him as if none of that mattered.

Jinyoung shoved his hand into your nightstand drawer until he found the box of condoms, grabbing one and tossing the nearly full box to the floor in his haste to get inside of you. You watched as he rolled it on, and it finally hit you that this was happening. It was almost too late for either of you to change your minds.  

“This is your last chance,” you said, finally looking up from his cock to his eyes. “If you want to stop, if you think it’s a bad idea—“

Jinyoung cut you off with his lips once more, his hand grabbing onto your thigh to hook it around his waist. “I’m not changing my mind. Are you?” He whispered against your lips and you felt him hard against your stomach.

“No,” you answered. “I want it.”

He pulled away and locked eyes with you, a smirk on his lips. “Oh yeah?” His tongue ran over his lower lip and he reached down, guiding his cock up your folds until the head nudged your clit. “I can tell.”

Even though he was clearly just as desperate, you blushed and pinched his arm. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”

Jinyoung’s eyes lit up and he chuckled, lowering his hips until you felt him at your entrance. “I had no idea you had such a dirty mouth on you.” He paused for a moment, making sure you were ready, then pushed inside of your heat.

While you’d just had his fingers inside of you, you would’ve never been able to tell with the way you squeezed around him. It was uncomfortable at first, but the feeling ebbed away quickly the more of him you took inside.

“Oh,” you breathed, and Jinyoung echoed your reaction with a groan.

“Tight,” he whispered, dropping his head down to your shoulder.

As soon as he’d filled you to the hilt, you couldn’t help the whimper that slipped from your lips. It was the best kind of stretch, putting every one of your nerves on edge. He stayed like that for a long moment, letting your walls adjust to his length.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you shifted, tightening your leg around his waist. “Move. Please.”

Jinyoung’s movements were controlled and slow, but it was as if he knew all of the sensitive places in your body already. You gasped, your hands sliding up his back until they gripped tightly to his shoulder blades.

The way he fit inside of you felt incredible, and you weren’t sure it had ever felt quite like this, even with ex-boyfriends. Everywhere your body met with his felt like it was on fire, and as Jinyoung quickened his pace, you found it harder and harder to stay quiet.

His name fell from your lips over and over, and you could tell Jinyoung was holding back—when he lifted his head from your shoulder, his brows were knitted together in concentration. You slid your nails down his back, relishing in the way he shivered in response.

“God, you’re driving me insane,” he said, his voice low and strained. “Spread your legs more. Yeah, just like that.”

“Mm, faster,” you told him, clenching around him once he was all the way inside. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”

“Fuck—“ Jinyoung groaned, hands squeezing the sheets where he held himself above you.

If someone had told you twelve hours ago that Jinyoung would have you covering your own mouth to muffle your moans while he drilled into you, you probably would have thought they were crazy. But here you were.

Jinyoung reached down, slipping his hand under your back to unhook your bra, pulling it off in one smooth movement. He cursed under his breath once you were exposed to him completely, breasts bouncing each time he filled you up.

“God,” he whispered, hand trailing down your chest until the tip of his index finger grazed over your nipple, a featherlight touch. You shivered, arching your back towards his hand. “Tell me what you like.”

Normally, it took you months to let your boyfriends know what you liked in bed and how you liked to be touched, but honesty was your number one rule in this agreement. There was no point in holding back.

“I like it deep, just like this,” you told him. Jinyoung seemed to just know already, or maybe that was how he liked it too. He was always the intense type, it made sense if it had transferred over to the bedroom. “I like it when you tell me how it feels, what you want to do.”

Your words were finished off by a moan that you were sure Sana could have heard if she weren’t asleep, and just the thrill of being caught was enough to send a wave of heat through your body.

When Jinyoung locked eyes with you, there was a hint of something new, like you’d unlocked a part of him that you’d never seen before. He smirked.

“Next time,” Jinyoung started, thrusting deep inside of you, “you won’t have to keep quiet. I’ll take you to my place, and when I’m inside of you, you can be as loud as you want.” His hand slid down your torso, over the sensitive skin of your stomach until it rested on your hip.

Next time. Just the idea of being with him again, though you probably wouldn’t admit it, excited you. It filled your mind with a flash of scenarios and possibilities, all the different ways he could make you feel good.

“Jinyoung, I—“ you moaned, biting hard onto your lip to silence yourself. Jinyoung brought his other hand to your mouth, thumbing your lip until you were forced to stop biting it.

“Would you like that?” he asked, the pace of his thrusts quickening. “Maybe I can bend you over the back of the couch, windows open for everyone to hear you crying out. Is that what you want?”

Your eyes squeezed shut, gasping as the mental image went straight between your legs where he filled you up so perfectly.

“Answer me.” His voice was deep but stern at your ear, and you knew his question was not rhetorical.

“Yes,” you replied, digging your nails into his back. “God, yes. Make me scream your name, Jinyoung.” And he almost did, as he attached his lips to your neck and bit down, teeth scraping against your tender skin just as he slammed inside of you.

You were close again, and you knew it wouldn’t take much more to send you tumbling over the edge. His thrusts were so deep and powerful that you knew you’d be aching tomorrow, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can’t get enough,” he said, voice husky and low against your neck where you could tell he was working on marking you. He could’ve left the biggest, reddest hickey for all to see and you couldn’t have cared less right now. It didn’t even cross your mind that this was meant to be just between the two of you.

You whimpered when his hand drifted from your hip to the place where your bodies met. He placed his thumb right against your clit and pressed quick circles into your most sensitive spot, and you had to restrain yourself from moaning out.

Jinyoung must have sensed this, because he pulled away from your neck and stared down at you, slipping his opposite thumb into the wetness of your mouth. “Suck.”

If you weren’t close before, you were now. You wrapped your lips around his thumb and did as you were told, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking on Jinyoung’s digit as it rested on your tongue.

As his gaze locked on yours, you found yourself unable to look away. He commanded every bit of your attention, his eyes filled with desire and pleasure that you were responsible for. Your heart pounded in your chest, overwhelmed with need.

Although Jinyoung didn’t say a word, you could read it in his eyes—cum for me. He drew tight circles against your clit, his fast pace relentless inside of you. His stamina was something else, you thought to yourself. He didn’t even look mildly tired out.

You grabbed at Jinyoung’s wrist with your hands, needing something to grip onto but you also desperately needed to keep your mouth occupied so that you didn’t wake your roommate and the neighbors with your cries.

Then something snapped. The tension got to be too much and your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your back to arch and your thighs to shake, caging Jinyoung’s waist in and slowing his movements.

He still fucked you through your high and kept his fingers moving until he was sure you had come down. Once he was, he brought a hand up to push your hair away from your face, pressing his lips into your forehead.

“Good girl,” he whispered and you sighed, your limbs finally relaxing in exhaustion. You would’ve never guessed that Jinyoung would be the one to give you what was possibly the best orgasm you’d had in years. Polite, calm, and serious Jinyoung. The same Jinyoung that could barely look you in the eye when you wore a bathing suit in front of him.

His climax wasn’t far away, you knew that much. And you were thankful too, because you were already starting to feel sore and overstimulated, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

You wrapped your arms around him, your fingertips gripping deep into his skin, undoubtedly leaving scratch marks down his back. It was only fair, you figured. You slipped one hand into his hair and tugged, harder than before.

“Shit,” Jinyoung moaned, his thrusts becoming less controlled and more shallow. You pulled his hair again, your nails scraping against his scalp, and that was it for him.

He pushed inside one last time, his cock so deep inside of you that you couldn’t help clenching your walls around him as he came. He was mostly silent save for one throaty groan into your neck, a sound you were sure you wouldn’t soon forget.

You felt him relax a long moment later and he slowly pulled back away from you, stroking the side of your face with his fingertips. “That was...”

All you could do was nod, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Yeah...” Your heart was still racing from your orgasm, but the haze of your desire was starting to fall away, reminding you of reality.

You’d just had sex with Jinyoung. One of your best friends. What would happen now? Would it be awkward from now on, now that you’d seen each other naked? You’d literally had him inside of you. Something told you it’d be difficult to come back from that.

Jinyoung finally pulled out of you a moment later to remove the condom and put it in the trash, and you were eternally grateful that you had the master bedroom with the attached bathroom. For one, you could watch his backside as he went to get a washcloth, and you also didn’t have to leave your bedroom until both of you were fully cleaned up.

You shifted on the bed while you waited for Jinyoung to return, trying to ease your worries. The two of you had been friends so long, you figured it would take more than one hook-up to ruin it all.

Once Jinyoung came back with a wet cloth and climbed onto the bed, you told yourself you’d worry about it tomorrow.

You both got cleaned up and while Jinyoung got dressed, you grabbed your robe and wrapped it around yourself so that you could walk him to the door. Both of your footsteps were as silent as possible, careful not to wake your roommate.

“Jinyoung,” you said, as he slipped his shoes back on.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” you whispered, chewing nervously at your lip. You didn’t quite know what you were thanking him for, but you felt the need to say it anyway. Some part of you felt so grateful to him that you couldn’t let him leave without making him aware.

Jinyoung’s lips quirked just a bit. “You too,” he tucked your disheveled hair behind your ear. “I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

You nodded. “Drive safe.”

The moment Jinyoung was out of the apartment, your body leaned limply against the door as you stared up at the ceiling. No, this was not how movie night was supposed to have gone.

[ravenbrenna09]

Jij Verliest - Chapter Three: Clip 8

the edited version of the chapter will come up later tonight (also technically there are two clips)

master list previous

...

Vrijdag 22:32

When Robbe sat down for his typical Friday night stream, he had a plan. For starters, he was only going to stream for the usual three hours that he always did. No more. No less. After, he was going to study for an hour, look over notes for his test on Wednesday, and go to bed. Then, in the morning, he would wake up, have breakfast with the flatshare, and go skating with his friends. After that, he didn’t know. 

Robbe thought he was stronger. 

Once the clock neared 21:00, his chat thoroughly managed to convince him—aided by Moyo and Aaron, chanting over the Discord call—to stream for an additional hour. While the smarter part of Robbe’s brain had begged him to stick to the schedule in his head, he was having so much fun with his friends and the chat that he couldn’t help extending the time a little longer. And, as it neared 22:00, he couldn’t help but continue for ‘one more round’ which simply turned into five without blinking. Robbe was starting to wonder when it would end because he didn’t want to. 

Then, through the act of his phone lighting up, the universe decided to tell him to get off the stream.

earthlingoddity: It’s so lonely under the stars without you.

The message in every sense of the word screamed Sander. Yet, it made Robbe’s insides twist and turn with such a defined precision that it was elating. Freeing. It was bold and private, a confession for only the two of them, something that they shared. Something that Sander wanted to share with Robbe so openly and so quickly and so boldly. 

Even though the stream was running, Robbe couldn’t leave Sander without a response. As soon as he had hit send (the second time), he turned back to the stream, catching up on the donations and messages. It was practically second nature now. But, he still found himself watching for his screen to light up again.

sterkerdanijzer: Oh, yeah? How can I make it a little less lonely?

Sander’s next message was the final cannonball into Robbe’s intricate night schedule. Whatever ounce of want to look over his Bio notes, to get to bed on time, splintered into pieces on the ground at three simple little words that flashed on the screen.

earthlingoddity: Wanna join me?

Vrijdag 22:52

As soon as the invitation had come through, Robbe abruptly ended the stream and claimed that he needed to the studying that he had been neglecting. His chat had all wished him goodbye and good luck on his upcoming tests. Once the stream was ended, he practically hung up on his friends and tripped over his feet in his search for a pair of jeans. Once he had switched out his night-stream sweatpants, Robbe was shoving his feet into shoes and typing out a message to Sander about meeting him.

Sander replied with a wink emoji and then an address.

As Robbe stepped out into the hallway, he quietly shut his door and tiptoed toward the front door. Even though Zoë—and Senne—were the only ones home, he didn’t want to disturb them in his haste to meet Sander. As Robbe opened the door, he could hear the sounds of their movie sounding from the living room. Feeling like he was sneaking out past curfew, he tiptoed out the door and pulled it close behind him without a sound. Once the door was locked, Robbe practically sprinted to the elevator, impatiently pressing the button until it opened. 

The address that Sander sent him brought him to a warehouse or rather a whole street full of warehouses of all shapes and sizes. Nearly all the surrounding warehouses had their lights shut off and the only light that bathed the street was the harsh white light emanating from the street posts. Other than Robbe and a stray cat that darted into a dark alleyway, the street was empty.

Standing outside of the warehouse with the matching address, he balanced on one foot and looked around, searching for a sign of Sander. Or, at the very least, a clue of where to go. As he hopped off his bike, he spotted another in the shadows of the building and the neighboring one. It was a dark bike with dark handles but there was a bright red lightning bolt sticker on the bars. It was Sander’s. 

Stepping into the shadows, Robbe leaned his bike on the wall near his before he moved further into the alleyway in search of the other. It was short and badly lit. There was enough room for a dumpster and some breathing room, but aside from that, the alleyway was bare of anything else. In the end, it opened up onto the Scheldt and the dark night sky. Robbe stepped out of the alleyway and quickly found who he was looking for. 

Poised on the edge of the concrete, Sander looked like a stone statue, left there for others to stumble upon and gawk in awe. His bleach blond hair was ruffled by the light breeze and he was staring across the river with a focused gaze. His legs were dangled over the concrete, hovering high above the dark water below. He was dressed in a plain black shirt and a pair of denim jeans that made Robbe wonder if Sander had just gotten off work. As Robbe approached him, cautiously and nerves bouncing frantically in his gut, he accidentally kicked a bottle which made him jump more than it did Sander, who seemed unbothered. 

The endearing smile that bloomed across Sander’s face did little to calm the mild heart attack that Robbe had given himself. “Hey,” Sander greeted. Robbe moved closer to him and sat down on the edge of the canal with him. Their legs brushed flush together and a small smile formed over Sander’s lips. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here or I would’ve met you.”

“It’s okay,” Robbe said, smiling at him. “I managed to find you all by myself.” Sander chuckled, smiling over at him with a sheepish smile on his face. “Did you just feel like star-gazing tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Sander replied, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to Robbe. “Since I had the late shift and had to close up tonight, I thought I would come out and watch the stars a little before bed. Plus, if I went back to my apartment, it would be too quiet anyway. Noor’s in the Netherlands visiting family and, well—you know where Senne is.”

“How did you even find this place?” Robbe asked. 

“In high school, I used to sneak out and roam the city,” Sander said, shyly. “When I wasn’t in a good place, it always brought me comfort. I would search the city for graffiti art and document it all. It’s how I found this place and over a dozen more coves of hidden artistic treasures around the city.” Sander smiled, returning his eyes back to the water. “But, this place has been my favorite. There’s not a lot of lights to block out the stars and it’s peaceful this time of night because not a lot of people live here.”

“Yeah,” Robbe said, barely a whisper. Sander glanced over at him and Robbe felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment for being caught staring. Even as a bright smile formed over Sander’s face, Robbe found himself unable to look as his cheeks flushed brighter. “It does seem quite peaceful here.” 

Sander chuckled before turning back to the stars in front of him. 

Unable to keep still, Robbe turned to take in their surrounding. He had been so focused on finding Sander that he hadn’t taken in their surroundings. In addition, he knew that if he didn’t keep his eyes off Sander, he would fall into the same daze of staring until he was caught again. Though, Robbe had a feeling that Sander didn’t mind him staring a little too long. In fact, he was certain that he enjoyed it. 

The warehouse behind them was a simple warehouse with a large deep blue door. He had seen it many times before, of course, because his normal skatepark was on the other side of the river. But, the warehouse next to it, the one a little further back and hidden, was the one that caught his attention. For a second, he thought it was the trick of the light—or the shadows—but he realized there was something on the wall, harshly obscured due to the lack of light. 

“What is that?” Robbe questioned.

Sander turned to him. “Huh?” 

Unable to answer his question, Robbe rose to his feet. He moved away from Sander, who shuffled somewhere behind him. As he got closer to the building, he pulled his phone out and turned on his flashlight. Once the light was on and he reached the side of the building, he directed his phone toward it and gasped. 

It was a mural. 

In a large oblique circle located in the center of the brick wall, there was a depiction of a torrential ocean. The waves were large and massive, looking like they would crash into each other in a second’s notice. Above the ocean were deep gray clouds that poured heaps of rain onto the ocean below. The mural took up half of the building wall and Robbe couldn’t stop staring at it, shining his light over every piece of the mural, not wanting to miss a piece. 

There was the shuffle of boots behind him, but Robbe didn’t have to look to know that Sander was right behind him. “Do you like it?” Sander asked. 

There was something lingering in his voice that Robbe didn’t pinpoint. Pausing, Robbe turned to Sander, who was moving toward him with cautious steps and his hands buried deep in his pockets. He turned back to the mural in front of him, his eyes searching the dark blue paint and its torrential rain and overwhelming ocean waves. “I love it.” 

“Really?” Sander questioned. 

The artist was closer to Robbe now. He could feel the warm presence that Sander radiated just out of his reach. Robbe’s head spun out of control, twisting and churning like the depiction of the torrential downpour in front of him. Despite the fact that his heart might leap out of his chest if he talked, Robbe said, “Yes.” 

Sander let out a breath before he said, “I’m happy to hear that you like it.” His breath brushed against the shell of Robbe’s ear and he shivered unexpectedly at the feeling of him so close. Sander’s tattooed arm appeared over his shoulder and his right hand grasped Robbe’s hand which held the phone. His hand was warmer, larger, and the warmth flooded through his body unexpectedly. Gently, Sander moved his hand so the phone’s light was shining directly below the mural.

In the center of the light beam, there was a prominent black lightning bolt, outlined with a thin line of white along its right side. On its left, there was an almost unintelligible S and a similar-looking D was on its right. A realization clicked in Robbe’s head as he stared at the tag. Sander dropped his hand from around Robbe’s, his thumb swiping across his knuckles, and Robbe felt a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips. “You painted this.”

“Yeah,” Sander said. “One night, a few months ago, I couldn’t sleep no matter how hard I tried so I snuck out and came here with a bag full of spray paint. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I had found a ladder that someone left and I started working. Once sunlight hit and Senne realized I was gone, he found me high on the ladder with spray paint covering my hands and exhausted. When he asked me what it meant, I couldn’t explain. It was just how I felt.”

“I get that.” 

Turning away from the mural, Robbe turned to Sander. But, he had underestimated how close the artist had gotten and the realization had knocked all of the wind out of his lungs. Sander was standing within reach, less than, with his hands buried deep in his pockets. His green eyes, which stood out from the dark shadows surrounding them, were focused solely on him and Robbe was positive that he looked like a gaping fish. 

It felt like Wednesday all over again, green eyes searching brown ones, brown ones searching green ones, in the darkness of the night sky. But, this time, Robbe was the one who purposely dropped his gaze to Sander’s lips and the artist immediately let out a shaky breath. He glanced back up at Sander, who had a vulnerable but determined look in his eyes, as their eyes locked together again.

Then, Sander took a step closer. 

With each agonizing second that Sander leaned closer, Robbe could feel his emotions churning in his stomach like the waves depicted on the wall behind him. They crashed against his skin in torrential waves, drowning him beneath their waves, and they collided in his skull like excited particles threatening to explode. His stomach was a fit of nerves and anticipation of what might come next—of what was coming next—of how much he wanted it to happen with every nerve and atom that existed in his body. Robbe tilted his head so their lips would easily slide together.

As their noses brushed together—as Robbe’s eyes fluttered close—as Sander’s warm hand cradled his jaw—as Robbe gripped onto his bicep, the waves shuttered to a stop and all the excited particles halted in midair, leaving only one thought in their wake as their lips grazed against each other: I want this. 

If the wait was like drowning, the kiss itself was like breaking the surface of the water, the waves reducing around him and taking a gigantic breath of fresh air. Sander’s large, warm hands cradled his jaw. In Sander’s gentle, warm grip, Robbe felt like he was something precious. Sander’s lips pressed against his own, barely there, gentle and sweet. Robbe felt like his head was spinning, his senses filled with the smell of Sander’s intoxicating cologne. But, even with his senses full of the intoxicating smell, Robbe felt like it wasn’t enough—he wanted Sander even closer. 

Sander pulled away, letting out a breath that ghosted across Robbe’s face, and he opened his eyes to look up at him. 

A beautiful smile was on Sander’s face and it was directed at him. It was by far the widest that Robbe had ever seen him smile and it looked like it could’ve split Sander’s face into two separate pieces. It made him look like a piece of artwork or a moment snapped in time. And, it was absolutely infectious. Robbe’s own lips pulled up in a smile as he stared at him. Robbe’s cheeks ached and he knew that his dimples were likely out. But, no matter how much it hurt, Robbe didn’t want to stop smiling and he didn’t think that he was capable of doing so.

“Fuck,” Sander said. His thumbs dragged across his cheekbones, dipping a little at the dimples on the edges of his lips, before tracing the path all over again. One of his hands moved back into the hair at the nap of Robbe’s neck, holding him there, tugging at the strands of his hair. Then, he whispered, a confession for Robbe and Robbe only, “You’re so beautiful.” 

“So are you,” Robbe whispered.

Robbe surged up toward him. He stood on his toes to kiss him again—to kiss him a third time—to kiss him as many times as Sander would want to. And, Sander was there, holding onto him tightly and ready to catch him, and met his kiss with eager force.

Their first kiss had been sweet and short. It was like they were testing the waters on it all, trying to see if it was something the other wanted. But, this kiss was hungry and desperate, like they couldn’t get close enough to satisfy their increasing desire. There wasn’t enough time in the world so Sander kissed him with everything that he had and Robbe tried to pull Sander closer and closer until there was no room in between them. Their lips moved in an uncoordinated fashion, half reacting to the other, as they tried to learn their lips. Robbe tried to mesmerize this moment with Sander’s fingers in his hair and Robbe clinging to the black fabric of his t-shirt desperately. 

Sander’s kiss slowed a little, but not enough to separate their lips. Then, he moved, taking one step and the other, and Robbe tilted along with him, clinging desperately to his shoulders like a koala that was unable to let go. But, Robbe couldn’t help it and he didn’t think Sander minded. He did not want to separate from the softness of Sander’s lips or the eagerness of his kiss. Sander’s hand was tight on his hip, guiding him on where he wanted him to go, before Robbe felt his back press against the wall—the wall with the mural—before Sander’s kiss returned in full force. 

Sander leaned further against Robbe, nearly putting all of his weight on him. His hands tugged on the strands of Robbe’s hair and kissed him harder and faster. Robbe let out a sigh and tried to match Sander’s overwhelming, intoxicating intensity. He arched into the kiss before wrapping one arm around Sander’s shoulder. He tugged Sander closer and he came willingly, stepping forward and crowding Robbe against the wall. Robbe dug his fingers into the blond strands of his hair and Sander sighed between their lips.

They broke the kiss, half panting into each other’s mouth, trying to regain their breath. They were quiet and still, simply holding onto each other and relishing in each other’s presence. Then, a giggle escaped from Robbe’s mouth and Sander let out a laugh before moving to close the distance again. Their lips slotted together like they never separated. 

[hollenka99]

The Friend

Summary: When Sean is six, he creates an imaginary friend. Jack lingers into adulthood and their friendship isn’t as perfect as the little boy had hoped.

When Sean is six, he spends the night at his friend's house. Max's big brother dared them to stay up all night. As much as he tried, the little boy couldn't stop himself from dozing off before midnight. Max teased him about his failure until it got out of hand. Years later, Sean would look back on it all and conclude that Max was a bad friend. In response to the teasing, he invents an imaginary friend. Jack is kind and forgiving. He doesn't care if Sean is loud and instead joins in with the noise. More importantly, at least to the boy, he never sleeps. He is there for him whenever Sean requires him to be. He has no mind with which to object or act otherwise if he wanted. He is the perfect friend. Jack has more energy than Sean. He can continue to run around the school track while Sean has to call it quits. As children, they laugh and suggest it's because Sean plays too many video games. They know their logic is flawed. Sean runs around with his friends as much as they sit down to play on game consoles. But like all children, Sean grows up. Teenagers aren't meant to have imaginary friends. When he was younger, conversing with Jack was seen as sweet. Now older, he'd begun to leave childish things like invisible buddies behind. However, Jack lingers and Sean notices him on occasions. One such moment was after he plays the PlayStation version of Spider-Man 2 and they design a superhero together. Jack is a ghost, no longer required to serve his purpose. He collects figurative dust in the corner of his best friend's mind. Each time he is brought back, even if he can't express it, he is grateful. It prevents him from completely fading into non-existence. Existing as a faded memory is all he really knows by this point. One day, he'll be able to say barely existing is purely numbing. However, for the moment, he doesn't know better. For now, his 'life' and actions continue to be entirely at Sean's mercy. Soon, Sean is 23 and passing 1000 subscribers on his YouTube channel. Jack is proud of him. He smiles on his own accord. It disappears when he feels the muscles in his cheeks tug themselves upwards. Sean is nowhere to be seen. He hasn't existed without Sean being present before. He's not sure what to do without him or how to find him. Awareness of free will dumps him in an empty room. It is only him, the floorboards, four bare walls and a single door. He needs to know where Sean is. How does he proceed without his creator instructing him? Despite all the energetic activity he was subjected to as a child, he is clumsy as he runs towards the door. He falls on his face in front of Sean's TV. His hands sting from absorbing the impact. Upon laying eyes on his only friend, he realises they are wearing the exact same outfit. Neither of them know how to deal with this development. The two of them eventually progress past 'What the fuck?!' 'Don't ask me!'. Becoming real is the strangest thing he's experienced thus far. If he came into contact with something real like a desk, his body would reacted the same way as Sean's because he couldn't imagine a body clipping through surfaces like a badly designed character model. Now when he sits on a sofa, he actually feels the seat underneath his body. Being alive, being able to feel things for the first time is beyond any expectations he could have had. It's July, summer is underway. If he'll be able to register the sensation now, he wants to have the sun on his exposed skin. Sean laughs when he hears this and says it's a shame they don't live in a place where sunshine is more common. A particularly hot day arrives and Sean brings a tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream back to the cabin. It's cold and chocolatey, with little chewy bits of brownie. Jack falls in love instantly. He goes out and buys more flavours any time the sky warms his skin. Sean playfully teases him about getting fat if his habit continues. The Jacksepticeye channel becomes theirs, not just Sean's. They both play games and grumble to each other about how slow things take to get uploaded thanks to the cabin's terrible broadband. Anything personal like a Q&A or comment reading video remains purely Sean's territory. Their arrangement works, especially with Jack editing into the night so Sean could sleep. Months pass and the weather cools. Unlike warmth, he hates being unable to have complete control of his body as it is overtaken by tiny shaking movements. Sean tells him he's just shivering. If he puts on another layer of clothing, it won't be so bad. His friend seems happier in general. He's not quite so lonely anymore. Jack is glad to be able to contribute to that in any way. He notices Sean making himself hot chocolate one day in December. He's confused when he is abruptly forbidden from making or tasting the drink himself. A week into February, everything becomes clear. "Hey Jack, happy birthday!" Sean hands him a mug of milky brown liquid. He accepts it hesitantly. "But it's your birthday. I got you a present and everything." "Yeah but you need to have a birthday too. And February 7th the best day to have one, in my opinion. Might be the tiniest bit biased on that though." He grins. "Go on, I've been wanting to see what you think of hot chocolate." Later, after Jack has made a few cups of the drink for himself, he'll realise this first serving was a little milk heavy. However, his obliviousness is beneficial. He drinks it eagerly once it cools a little, his first ever birthday present. Sean promises to get him something better next year, once they're more sure of Jack's likes and dislikes. Jack tells Angus about it. The Australian hunter appeared three months before him, as a result of the Survival Hunter series. With only the other for company, they rapidly develop a close friendship. Angus understands how strange existence is. Together, they discuss nature and watch David Attenborough or compete against each other in multiplayer mode of various games. In time, he notices something wrong. At first, in the summer of 2014, Angus begins to sleep in longer. It isn't exactly alarming but it is certainly a change in behaviour. By the time they are discussing hibernation, the wildlife expert is getting forgetful. By the end of 2015, he's constantly in his room, resting. Angus is a shadow, quite literally a faded memory, and Jack knows exactly who's to blame for his friend's condition. He returns to Sean multiple times, forever attempting to persuade him to bring the Survival Hunter series back to the channel. Time after time, Sean argues there isn't anywhere he can take the series. If he thought harder, maybe their creator would find a way to stop it all. He's been so accommodating before that Jack struggles to understand why Sean is so unwilling to cooperate. The first crack shows. When Sean tells him about breaking up with his girlfriend, he provides any support his friend needs from him. Months later, Sean is telling Jack about a Danish artist he's befriended. He gushes about how much he likes her art and how easy it is to talk to her. One day, Jack teases him about having a crush on Signe. With a short, self conscious laugh, Sean admits they were actually dating now and that he hoped to invite her to Ireland soon. Jack ruffles his hair, much to Sean's chagrin. Dude's in love again. Good on him. When she does eventually set foot in their home country, Jack keeps away. She may be a twin but Sean definitely isn't. If she saw a duplicate of her boyfriend, there would be a lot of explaining to do. Seeing as she was solely here to spend time with him, it would be best if they avoided having to say "Well, it's a long story...". Besides, Jack had something that required his own attention. He kept spotting Sean lurking around Jack and Angus' home. Except, he could have sworn their creator had a murderous glint in his eye. His appearance wasn't consistent either. Some occasions, his eyes would be dark or he'd have blood visible on his person. Other times, the intruder simply gave the impression of being unhinged. The problem was that Jack couldn't get a good look at the stalker. The guy would always be in the corner of his eye or disappear as soon as the two made eye contact. Jack could almost say the evil Sean glitched out of reality. He questions if this is a new 'ego' as they'd come to call the two Sean lookalikes. Waking up with brown hair and making dinner with the top being green was a little disorientating. He didn't even realise his hair had changed until he went to the bathroom and shocked himself. Yes, he knew Sean was dyeing his hair for charity in response to Mark doing so. He'd even received a photo from the new grass top himself about the change. What he didn't know was that he'd change appearance too. He checks on Angus. No, his hair was still the natural brown. Sean later gives him forewarning before making an appointment at a tattoo parlour. Despite this, Jack does a double take when the Bold Hunter's Mark appears on his right arm. When the summer of 2016 begins, Sean brings up the superhero they'd designed in 2004. After filming with Ninja Sex Party, he's got a red suit and a lot of ideas. The night of July 10th, a younger version of Sean with his current hairstyle stood at his door. The teenager introduces himself as Jackieboy Man, or Jackie for short. Jackie is the breath of fresh air Jack didn't realise he needed. The 16 year old boy is brimming with energy, enough to match his own. He doesn't seem to have actual superpowers but the older ego assures him that's okay. He introduces him to Batman, one of the most famous non-powered heros. More importantly, Jackie is someone to talk to when Angus is busy spending the majority of the day resting. Within days, they are firm friends. Despite his age and having only just been granted autonomy, Jackie proves his eagerness to play the hero he'd been designed to be. He's also very adept with technology. It isn't long before he's made some improvements to the house. Jack catches him trying to access the dark web at one point. The boy shrugs it off as making the most of his skills. After all, he'd been doing just that in Welcome To The Game. Jack remains skeptical. A month after Jackie appears, Sean messes around with a magic kit on camera. Shortly after the video is uploaded, a man wearing a cape and a cat mask finds himself before the three other egos. His cynicism makes Jack question whether they'll get along. He does like the mask though. Jack stares at Sean when he admits the magician was an unintentional character. He swears he will go prematurely bald from wanting to yank his hair out. Sure, Jack could understand his own beginnings as a separate entity. How could Sean have known that by calling himself Jack, his childhood imaginary friend of the same name would be given life? The same went for Angus. Their creator was entirely oblivious to the power a bad Australian accent and a few hundred subscribers held. By now, Sean should have learned his lesson. The new guy believes his name is Jack the Magnificent. It won't do. Jack wouldn't mind there being another Jack if it wasn't for the fact it would get confusing quick. Not to mention there would be two Jacks and a Jackie. Yes, it would be extremely confusing. Jack watches the magician's introductory video again. Fifty Amazing Magic Tricks from Marvin's Magic. Marvin. Marvin the Magician. Marvin the Magnificent. Marvin's face lights up when Jack suggests the name. It's almost like he's had an epiphany. Marvin's right, the name does fit him. Jack is glad he could help. The boost in Marvin's self confidence motivates him to practise his magic. He was able to conjure fire in the video. Logic dictates he can do it again. Jack and Jackie are ready to assist Marvin in whatever way they can with exploring the extent of his magical abilities. Within two weeks of Marvin's arrival, he is dragging a bloodied Jackie into the house. With no medical knowledge at his disposal apart from basic first aid, the incident ends with the youngest housemate being admitted to hospital. He doesn't wish for this to become a common occurrence but they should be better prepared. Perhaps having a doctor as back-up wouldn't be a bad idea. To his relief, Sean is all for it. He purchases a copy of Operation and a doctor outfit. It's a mystery why Dr Schneeplestein is given an awful German accent. Nevertheless, Jack his excited to welcome the doctor. He's unsure about the backstory. The guy's brought into the world with a disloyal wife who is blackmailing him. He knows they have children but can't remember their names or their ages. The doctor doesn't have a first name either. He was simply 'Dr Schneeplestein' in the Operation video. Like he did with Marvin, Jack attempts to find a name that suits the new ego. He goes through baby name websites, specifically ones featuring German names, with the doctor. They eventually bump into Heinrich which prompts a minute of deep thought before the nameless ego announces Henrik is the right name. Several days later, Jack learns of Elias, Heidi and Alina. In mid-October, the morning after Ninja Sex Party upload their music video for 'Cool Patrol', Jackie challenges him to an arm wrestle. He wins several matches. The young superhero giggles as he admits he's going easy on Jack. The two of them spend the following days exploring Jackie's new powers. Marvin shows up, either to watch or practise a defensive spell, while Henrik stood by. They soon establish that, along with technological expertise, Jackie has super strength, flight and lasers at his disposal. By far, his favourite power is the ability to fly. Jack comes out from a recording session towards the end of October to be ambushed by Marvin. He's questioned on whether he'd like a balloon. The minute he accepts, Marvin fetches the 'balloon'. When Henrik spots Jackie being transported around the room, floating while attached to a piece of string, he mutters something in German and retires to his area with coffee. As the month draws to a close, Sean offers him the opportunity to carve the pumpkin this year. He gladly accepts, only later remembering the weird stuff happening to the footage of several videos. He brings it up with his friend. Sean insists nothing will happen. Yes, he's building up to Antisepticeye making his debut appearance but that will be the second video of the day. Jack is skeptical but lets it slide. While their creator could be wildly irresponsible with his ideas at times, Jack trusts him not to deliberately put any of them in harm's way. He is even promised the dangerous upcoming character wouldn't be a threat between videos. During the carving, his nose begins leaking blood so he jokes about how big of a coincidence it was. Off screen he allows himself to be freaked out by the nosebleed. The actual bleeding nose isn't the issue. He's had nosebleeds before, namely when Jackie's aim was off during training. It's the timing that scares him. It's Halloween, with Antisepticeye due to show up today. This is too much of a coincidence. Despite not wanting to, he decides the show must go on. He says some uncharacteristically mean things to Gerald. When he argues with Sean, at least there's some reason to let insults slip. Gerald hasn't done anything wrong. It fails to matter when he is forced to lose control his body. Regardless of how much he'd love to resist, the knife slices through skin. He wakes up in a hospital bed. Dr Schneeplestein explains everything, advising Jack doesn't watch the video himself. He gets incredibly caught up in sudden, painful revelations as soon as he's left to his thoughts. Sean told him Antisepticeye wouldn't target the pumpkin video. Sean had lied. Apparently, his creator could deceive him without hesitation. Worst of all, he now knew how his 'friend' saw him. Expendable; Jack was expendable. He can't believe he'd trusted Sean like that. What was he thinking? Sean had gone against him in the past, namely ignoring his suggestions to improve the lives of the egos. Did he for one second consider how terrifying being suddenly robbed of your autonomy could be? Or suffering through being murdered by your own hand? Sure, the anaesthetic helped dull it to an ache. That didn't change the fact Jack would have a scar as a daily reminder of Sean's willingness to sacrifice the one he'd designed to be everything he wanted in a friend. If his life wasn't as important as Sean's, the difference should be so small it was inconsequential. By the time he is able to be discharged, he had forgiven Sean. Of course he was expendable. He was just made up like the others. No harm could come to Sean, he was too important to lose. None of them would exist without their creator. In a way, he should be thankful for being used as bait. At least he could still be relevant, unlike Angus. He'd been in Angus' position for years. Jack never wanted to feel like that again, as if he was nothing. He's never resented his basic character traits more. He hates that a little boy could force his best friend to always forgive him. He wouldn't be surprised if Sean committed genocide and Jack let it slide. Never sleepy, unable to stay angry at him forever, always willing to provide emotional support should he require it. Well, at least free will had allowed him to bend those rules at times. The truth was that Sean wasn't perfect and Jack didn't want to treat him as such. It didn't matter. The forgiveness comes too late to save Jackie. Sean's visit to the infirmary sparks another row. Frustrated with the disagreements, Jackie bursts into the room halfway through, screaming at them to stop. As soon as he had thundered off, both faces of the Jacksepticeye channel allowed themselves to resolve the latest issue calmly. "What are we doing? This constant arguing is getting us nowhere." "Tell me about it." Jack grumbled back. "Want to call a truce?" "I'm still furious you used me as bait. I don't know how you could have consciously done that." "I know. I'm not sure what I was thinking. Just wanted to give the subscribers something fun for Halloween, I guess. I-" "A community event where they post art would have been more fun." He interrupts. "Hey, I could do that next year." Sean's smile is cautious. "I promise I won't pull something like that again." His friend extends a fist with only his smallest finger out. He's got to be kidding. "What are you, five?" "Come on, humour me. Please?" Jack is reluctant but does it anyway. "You're a fucking idiot." "Don't we know it." Only one laughs. "This doesn't mean I'm going to let it slide just yet." He fidgets. Despite the stuff Schneeplestein had given him, the ghost of Jack's neck wound bothered him still. "Tell me about Antisepticeye. You've made a video with him so he'll be out there now. I should at least know what to look out for." Jack's biggest regret after that night isn't repeatedly allowing himself to forgive Sean. Instead, he becomes remorseful for not getting his friend to follow the young superhero. By the time either of them realise Jackie was yet to return, it was too late. Jack postpones his German studies to focus on bringing the youngest member of the household back to them. His efforts bear no fruit, even months later. The joint birthday celebrations go far better than either of them could have hoped. There are no ill feelings between the two of them on that day. The only fight they have is when Jack silences Sean's complaints of getting older by 'accidentally' smearing frosting on his face. Signe takes a photo of them, crumbs and frost littering their neon green hair. He keeps the photograph with the other reminders the two of them did have great times amongst the disagreements and resentment. He plays the first chapter of Bendy and the Ink Machine while Sean is away at PAX East and the other egos are sleeping. Sean's been hyped for this game for a while, Cuphead too, so Jack is leaving them for him to record. That said, there's no reason why he can't play it in his spare time. Later that month, he absentmindedly watches Sean's playthrough of it. "'The creator lied to us.' Well boohoo, people lie all the time. It's part of life." Jack had found that message on the wall intriguing when he'd played it. As much as he tried not to let Sean's comment get to him, it lingered. At least this time, he could exit the video and never return to it. The week after Angus' birthday, Chase Brody arrives with a name from the get-go. Unfortunately, he also has a wife who's divorcing him and a suicide attempt under his belt before meeting any of his fellow egos. Sean's done some stupid shit before but portraying a suicide? Really? Jack knows for a fact that his friend isn't one to see poor mental health and suicide as something to joke about. Nevertheless, Chase grows on him. Once you got past all the self deprecation and depression, he proved to be a cool guy who loved his two children. Unfortunately, the bullet Henrik has to extract from Chase's brain ruins his ability to perform complex actions with his left arm. "I'm not changing his character." Sean states during a gaming session. "Okay, but-" "Jack, I'm not doing it. This isn't me being stubborn and unwilling to compromise. People split up all the time and sometimes children are involved. A bunch of my subscribers will be able to relate to the situation, either as the parent or the child." "He shot himself in the head." "Unfortunately, that's something people in Chase's headspace consider doing." There's something in the way Sean speaks that worries Jack. "Some of them out there need proof things can change. I could show that." "You're not depressed." He's really unsure on how to have this conversation. "Well, no, but neither are you." They don't go further and Jack's guilt grows. He is sure he's missing something but he can't put his finger on it. They instead discuss topics that were more pleasant. Any miniscule progress Chase makes with his arm, Jack cheers him on. At least he understands where the issues lay with the latest ego. He wishes he was as in tune with Sean. He had been once. Now they were both watching their tongues in case either of them accidentally triggered a disagreement. Home wasn't so bad. He and Marvin still dedicated hours to locating Jackie but, as ever, no breakthroughs were made. However, progress was being made in other places. May brought a second cat into the household. The white feline was usually found lazing around with Jack and Chase or hanging out with Marvin's Abyssinian, Bastet. Jack feels so dumb when he finally learns why he can never find Marvin when the white cat is present. He couldn't be prouder of how far the magician's abilities had developed since August. He had returned to learning German at night. When reading German texts, occasional words begin to become familiar. Every now and again, he doesn't have to check what a word, or even rarer a phrase, means. It takes him a while to remember how accents change the sound of letters. Practising his speech alone, he is convinced his pronunciation is off by miles. Nevertheless, the delight on Henrik's face when he haphazardly makes his way through imperfect sentences proves it is undoubtedly worth it. Henrik coaches him on his native tongue while Jack continued to correct the doctor's English grammar. Henrik's ability to speak French is utilised after Sean plays a game called Passpartout. Jacques Septique often enclosed himself in his room, painting whatever he felt like that day. Once he became more comfortable around the five others living under the same roof, he offered to paint their doors. Soon, the house was a little more colourful. Jack promises himself he won't get too close to the French artist. He'll be kind and welcoming to him, of course he will, but he knows Jacques wasn't made last. He's a fan creation. All you needed to do was visit Angus to see what happened to that kind of ego. He'd been wary of Marvin when he'd first appeared. Unintentional with no name? He couldn't be more fan made. Jack had been an idiot and allowed himself to become close friends with the magician. It had taken Angus little over a year to start going downhill. That meant that by Christmas, Marvin would show signs too. There was the hope that the near 16 million subscribers were more able to preserve Marvin than the hundreds or thousands who saw Angus' ten videos. However, it was just hope. On the last day of July, Jack has a bad morning. He trips on something, spilling scalding coffee all over himself and breaking one of his favourite mugs in the process. After that, he records a video, only for him to notice none of the footage was recording. Frustrated, he calls Sean to see if he's free. His best friend almost succeeds in cheering him up with his jokes and sympathy. Jack is on the brink of feeling better when Sean ruins it all. "I'm burnt out, man." Sean admits. "YouTube needs to sort itself out." "You're burned out?" Jack scoffed. "Sure, how long have you been feeling like that?" "Oh don't give me that. This isn't a contest to see who's more tired. Besides, you don't get tired." He knows he has the power to avoid this argument before it truly begins. But years of Sean not listening have resulted in little patience concerning these topics. His mind isn't able to stop his mouth in time. "No, you don't give me that, Sean. For three years, I've watched one of my closest friends deteriorate into nothing. We could save Angus but you refuse to help me. Plus you don't let me upload any of the videos anymore." "I... I never have." "I'm not finished." He continues. "You need to stop playing God because you clearly suck at it. If we could find a game with wildlife in an open world for Angus, we could bring him back to his original condition. I'm not saying we go back to Far Cry, especially with the 5th instalment coming next year. But can you finally co-operate with me so we can save him? It would be one less mess of yours for me to fix. Not to mention it's practically 9 months since Jackie disappeared. We both know what happened to him. Anti is your creation. I don't care if he has as much free will as the rest of us. You could think of something, shit I'll take anything at this point, to keep him at bay. I'm sick of having to be the one who everyone relies on. That should be your job. You can't create us and then leave us to deal with suddenly existing by ourselves. If you want to keep acting like this, at least let me sleep. Even just once. Everyone can just escape all the problems you mindlessly burden them with for a few hours. Not me, I have to stay up and wait for the next big disaster you throw at us. Joke all you want about never needing sleep. I won't be laughing." Sean looks at him like he's insane. "Sleep? You're... kidding right? Just lie down and close your eyes. It's not rocket science." "I can't! I physically can't fall asleep because that's how you made me." "I was six!" "Yeah, and now you're 27. You have the power to help us but instead, you just create more of us. Stop being so irresponsible." The fight escalates. Jack is a broken record, repeating many of the points he's made over the years that still remain issues. If that isn't a line of argument in itself, he doesn't know what is. He also insists Marvin's name should be made canon already. After all, it was nearing a full year since the magician's first appearance. The spat ends with Jack forcing himself to leave the situation. "You want to sleep, I'll let you sleep." The words sound more malicious than they should. "Bring back Jackie. He's been missing for months. Do something!" At home, he marathons Harry Potter with Marvin and Chase for a few hours. It doesn't take his mind off the argument with Sean completely. If he knew they wouldn't get the chance to reconcile for two years, he would have apologised sooner. Unbeknownst to him, things were already being set in motion. Just three days later, he is overcome with queasiness as he introduces the latest episode of Bio Inc Redemption. He doesn't understand what's happening. One thing he does know is that nothing about this is good. Excusing himself, he stumbles carefully to Henrik's section of the building. "Hen-" He gags, hand flying to his mouth again. "Henrik, I need help. Something's wrong."

[thelanternwielder]

Too Late - Part Seven

Author’s Note:

Yes, I did take my time writing this part, mostly because I have become busier. I don’t have all the time in the world any more (just some time in the world. I’m not overly busy).

What I didn’t expect was to have this chapter be so long. There’s something about those ice caves that just expands my word count.

Well, here it is.

Previous Part: >Here<

The Start: >Here<

Edit 2018/02/14: Part Eight: >Here<

Tell me what you think. Feedback is always appreciated.

It was cold and pitch black.

And Hargrave was running for his life.

His shoes clanged on the ground as he stumbled through the dark corridors.

He had woken up in a mysterious metallic place.

He crashed into a wall, a sharp bend. He glanced behind.

Creeping around the corner was an emerald glow.

If he didn’t keep moving, they will catch him.

The discovery of what would happen to him if they did filled him with utter dread.

He skedaddled again.

Stay away from the light, the words repeated in his mind continuously, Stay away from the light.

He could hear their laughter echo down the hallway.

A deep, masculine voice called out to the terror-stricken butler, “You may run but you cannot evade us forever, Hargrave.”

He rammed into another wall, chest flat on the surface.

He peeked over his shoulder. The green light was approaching rapidly.

He gasped, bolting away.

He skidded to a stop, instinctively looking to the side. He swore there was a doorway.

The horrible light shone around the corner, revealing the hole in the wall.

He rushed through the doorway, down a shadowed slope.

He halted at the bottom, frantically searching for somewhere to hide.

He couldn’t see in the dark.

The light emerged from around the corner and brushed the slope, dimly illuminating the room with its sickly jade shades.

There was a shrouded spot against the slope. He scurried to it.

Cascading down the slope was luminescent lime slime. It slithered to the clearing in the room, next to the ramp. It split into three piles.

The piles rose up and formed three humanoid figures. The one in the middle had red streaks coming down from its eyes, another had darker green ovals on its cheeks. The third had no markings.

The plain being remarked in a feminine voice, slime flicking from its melting mouth when it spoke, “The engine room? There’s so many places to hide. It will take ages to find him.”

The figure with green marks replied in a mocking female tone, “Yes, but he’s trapped here.”

Hargrave sat with his mouth clamped shut, listening to the conversation as his heart pounded in his chest.

Not if I have anything to do with it, he mentally retorted.

The figure with red marks faced its fellow fluid beings, squelching with each step.

It commanded in the male voice, “He could not have gone far. Go. Hunt him down.”

The two female figures collapsed into puddles and raced away with a malevolent snicker.

The third stayed, gazing around the places near the slope. It was cluttered and disordered, crowded by stacked boxes. Some were open, showing mechanical alien parts.

It glided along the floor as it moved, feet sinking into the ground.

It murmured in a creepy coo, “Where are you, little butler?”

It inspected some boxes, hands sticking to them. It bent over to look behind.

The butler, very cautiously, peered from his hiding spot, lifting himself to do so.

The awful slime monster had its back to him. The globular substance that formed its body left a sticky trail wherever it went.

It cocked its head.

The butler quickly ducked down.

The monster regarded what was behind it: more boxes, and a thick metal pipe that ran parallel to the slope, with ends embedded in the walls and floor of the room.

It smiled menacingly.

Hargrave was crouched down again. His breaths were shallow. He knew he was defenseless; his eyes searched for a makeshift weapon.

The small hiding spot suddenly became very bright; emerald coloured the area.

He turned to where the pipe was.

In between the pole and the crate, through a tiny crack, glowing green slime spilled into the spot.

The butler sprung up, electrocuted by fear and began to flee.

He clipped the corner.

BANG!

He clumsily smacked the ground as some of the boxes scattered their contents with a clatter.

He lifted himself to his hands and knees before he realised that he was backlit by the light.

An ominous voice came from behind, chuckling.

“Found you.”

A chill ran down the butler’s spine.

He scrambled to his feet, grabbing the first thing he saw: a thin pipe-like part. He faced the slimy monster, holding the pipe up like a baseball bat.

It approached him with its dreadful drenched grin. The butler backed away.

A spilling sound came from behind the man.

He spun around stiffly, pipe quivering in his hands.

He was surrounded by the monsters.

The plain one sneered, “Didn’t get far, did you?”

Hargrave’s eyes darted to all three of the beings.

His voice shook as he demanded, “S-stay away from me!”

The monsters sniggered, causing the butler to shrink slightly.

The red-eyed one announced, “Your time has run out.”

It lunged at the pop-eyed butler. He hopped out of the way.

Almost instantaneously, the others charged towards him. He weaved passed them.

With a messy splatter, the three beings had morphed into one confused blob.

The butler glanced at the thrashing screeching mess then at slope.

He crept away and got to the foot of the ramp.

The red-eyed being materialised from the mass and saw the butler.

It boomed, “He’s getting away!”

The butler, jolted by the voice, sprinted up the slope and out of the room.

He raced along the corridor, desperate to escape whatever fate the monsters had for him.

Without thought, the butler located a branch in the hallway. He hid behind the corner, back firmly pressed against the wall. He hugged the pole, trying not to breathe too loudly.

He waited. He could hear the monsters’ growls as their glow came closer and closer.

The massive amorphous glob gushed past where the butler hid, and around the next corner, the only one their terrible temper allowed them to see.

Gradually, the halls became darker and darker, until there was no light left.

The butler eventually stuck his head out and checked if the coast was clear.

Still clutching the pole-like part, he snuck away like a mouse in the opposite direction of the monsters. The fingers of his free hand ran along the wall.

While he wandered through the darkness, the events leading up to the current moment replayed in his mind out of disbelief.

First, he woke up in the strange place, lying on the steel floor. He got up and gravitated towards the nearest light that he saw. It seemed to be coming from a room up ahead.

Opposite the doorway was a symbol crudely etched into the wall: a curvy X with a line through the middle of it.

He knew exactly what that symbol was. It caused him to freeze.

There’s no need to be afraid, he told himself.

Nothing bad has happened, he told himself.

It’s just a symbol.

He entered the room. A throne-like chair was in the middle, moulded to the ground.

The green light seemed to shine from the chair.

He faced its front.

Slumped in the seat was a pale blond man with a pompadour and a black outfit. His eyes were closed, and his head was angled down.

He had no pulse; the butler checked.

The butler jerked away from the body when he found out its state.

Then the chair started to talk to him.

It had the same voice as the one that spoke to him after he saw the monk’s vision.

The chair told him that the dead man was a god and used to have the power to manipulate the world itself with his advanced technology.

The god despised the Monsunos so much that he wanted to annihilate them, even if it meant wiping out the whole planet. Nothing was going to get in his way, not even the most threatening of airships.

He was slain in his efforts.

By Team Core-Tech.

At this point, Hargrave was quite sure that he was dreaming. There was no way those children could be god-killers.

But it felt so real.

The chair informed him that it used to be one of the observers of the world, watching as the events outside unfolded. They too could bend the world to its will, to an extent. There were five of them before their descent. Then three, including itself, were recruited by the god to be his disciples of destruction.

“We used to be so strong, so great, but we will return to our former glory. Then we will transcend far beyond what any mortal could ever be,” it proclaimed, “And we could help you rise too. Your powers could be limitless, but you are being held back. We could unleash that potential together. Join us.”

The butler was taken aback. He gave the chair an odd look.

He responded in the only way that he could, “I’m flattered but I shall have to decline the offer.”

Suddenly, a glowing lime liquid oozed from the chair. It seeped through the cracks, flowing onto the floor. It gathered into a puddle in front of the butler.

A figure rose from it. Its face was ill-defined; it only had eyes and a simple mouth. Red streaks came from its eyes.

The butler regarded the thing that formed before his eyes with revulsion.

It spoke in a dangerously sly way, “That wasn’t an offer,” its head tilted down, “That was an order.”

The butler’s eyes widened “O-order?”

He backed away in trepidation. The thing approached, feet eerily crawling along the ground without detaching from it. He bumped into the wall.

His eyes flickered around the room. There were two more slimy figures. They seemed to be grinning evilly.

The red-eyed one stated darkly, “You will join us or else, Hargrave.”

The man looked the being up and down and timidly replied, “The answer is still ‘no’.”

He abruptly took off, racing past the creatures and towards the doorway. He skidded around the bend.

He heard a voice rattle down the shadowy hallway, “GET HIM!”

And off he went, fleeing for his life.

Fast-forward to the present, and Hargrave was still blindly feeling around. Normally, he would’ve appreciated some light to be able to navigate. This time, he preferred the dark because it meant that the monsters were nowhere near him.

He got to an area where the wall seemed to be curved. It was quite long; the butler believed he spent a good ten minutes following it.

His fingers reached a different surface that jutted out. It was hard but more geometric than the walls. He could feel distinct edges.

He then knocked it lightly. It was a muted, high-pitched sound.

“Glass,” he breathed the word with hope.

If it were glass, it could be a window. If he broke it, there was his ticket out of these hollow halls of horror.

And he did have a bat.

He shuffled backwards to give himself room to swing the pole. He went through the motions slowly to gauge the distance.

He lifted his makeshift bat, grip tightening.

He swung and struck the glass-like surface. A piercing ring resonated in the room.

The butler hesitated. He didn’t expect the sound to be so loud.

He struck again and again. His hits became percussive.

DING! DING! DING!

An emerald light grew behind him, soon swamping the area.

Before he could act, Hargrave was thrown against the wall with a vicious thud.

The pipe tinged on the ground as it bounced away.

His arms were stretched wide apart, hands on either side of him. He tugged at his hands. He couldn’t move them.

He glanced at them, now panicked.

Two of the gooey monsters had glued each of his hands to the wall. The liquid was fast creeping up his arms.

He was stuck.

Directly in front of him was the red-eyed being, frowning through the aquatic substance that formed its face.

It spoke with disappointment, “I thought you would understand our plight, Hargrave,” its tone became icy, “I thought you would come willingly.”

It snatched the butler’s coat, jerking him forwards. Its hands melted instantly. The slime spread along his chest, restricting his breathing.

“Instead you resist,” it spat in his face, liquid speckling his cheeks.

He flinched.

“Get off me!” the poor man cried, helplessly tugging and wriggling about.

The slime on his chest reached upwards and enveloped his neck. It began to constrict.

He gasped for air as his body seized up.

The red-eyed monster snarled, “Why? WHY? WHY DO YOU STILL RESIST?!”

The butler wheezed, straining each word, “My allegiance is with Dr Klipse.”

His mouth hung open as the last of the air in his lungs was squeezed out of him.

Suddenly, there was a deafening crack that filled the room.

The red-eyed being lurched back, releasing its grasp on the butler. The man bent forwards slightly, spluttering, trying to breathe again. The other slimy monsters had stopped and were looking at the wall behind him.

The red-eyed one gazed upwards.

Embedded in the wall was a gargantuan crystal.

Another shuddering snap echoed through the room as a crack shot up the crystal from where the man stood.

The red-eyed being regarded the butler with dismay.

“What have you done?”

He looked at it in the eye and softly replied, “I wanted to escape so I tried to break the window.”

Water trickled from the crack in the crystal. More began to form with snapping sounds.

“You have doomed us all!” exclaimed the red-eyed one.

A spiteful smile flashed on the butler’s face.

“Good.”

The crystal exploded with a boom. Water gushed into the room, pouring directly onto those below.

The water flooded the area and swept everything in its tumultuous currents.

Hargrave flailed, trying to swim. He was tossed around like a ragdoll.

His limbs continued to thrash as he opened his eyes.

There was no water, no green light.

No danger.

Just the blankets the he was entangled with.

His breathing slowed as he realised that nothing he just experienced was real. He was in a cold sweat.

He unravelled himself and found his feet. He staggered towards the light switch and turned it on.

In his compact bedroom, he had managed to spread his blankets and pillow across the entire floor.

As his body relaxed, a shooting sensation radiated through his head. He gripped it, dropping to his knees.

He whimpered, “Oh, the pain…”

                                                ***************

On the outside, the snow-capped mountains seemed so tranquil. But if one were to strain their ears, they could hear a drilling sound coming from one of the caves.

In the cavern that had collapsed, the parasurolophus Sauro happily smashed the huge chunks of ice with its drill hands. Hargrave assisted the beast by breaking down some of the smaller debris even further with his robot arms’ drills. Slowly, the two cleared the pathway.

Standing back were Dom Pyro, the only cheery spectator, Charlemagne, who was wearing her long white coat properly for once, and Drezz, who had a black undersized snow jacket draped over his shoulders and covering his bare arms.

All four of them wore earpieces so that they could communicate with the ship.

They were revisiting the freezing location because the supplies of Monsuno essence, desperately needed for research, were nearly depleted and it was the only place that they could think of that had potentially untouched reserves of the liquid gold.

The butler insisted that he should be one of the people go and investigate. There was something that he wanted to check: he remembered seeing an image imprinted on one of the cavern’s walls. Drezz was just as curious and wanted to help. Dom was the third person chosen, simply because of his Monsuno and his willingness.

Then Charlemagne wanted to tag along. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped in the ship again, especially in the same room as the Professor. She thought she would lose it unless she got out.

They heard the Doctor’s voice in their ears, “Have you broken through the ice yet?”

Drezz replied, “No, but I think we’re getting close.”

The butler stopped drilling and stepped back from the glacial barrier.

He regarded it, becoming fatigued by the enormity of the task.

“This is taking longer than anticipated,” he commented apologetically.

The Professor’s voice responded, “Y-y-you have been at it for fifteen m-m-minutes straight.”

“Have we?” the butler was surprised at how much time had elapsed.

Dom’s eyebrows raised when he heard the time. When they first got to the cave, Drezz sent out his fire-breathing Monsuno to clear the initial ice. Then Dom spun out as the creature timed out and returned to its core.

His Monsuno was about to expire.

He called out to his dinosaur “Sauro,” the beast halted the drilling and turned to its master, “Let’s speed things up.”

It seemed to smile as it faced the ice again.

Flames erupted from the lizard’s mouth and hands, melting the frost it licked.

It barged through the barrier effortlessly.

Charlemagne gave Dom an unimpressed look, “Vhy didn’t you do this earlier?”

The man simply shrugged.

The four of them chased the dinosaur.

They reached the area with the five doors. Sauro had flopped onto the ground in the middle. It evaporated into its red aurora and returned to Dom.

“Close one,” he glanced at his core before clipping it to his sash.

Hargrave faced the group, clasping his hands together.

He addressed them, “Now, Dom is coming with me. We’ll be going down the middle,” he regarded Drezz and Charlemagne, “That leaves us with two directions: left and right.”

“I’ll go left,” Drezz said, shivering slightly, “That’s where the Professor and I were last time.”

“So, I shall go right,” Charlemagne concluded.

With that, the four of them split into the three groups and began to traverse the tunnels.

The cold was biting. It affected Drezz the most. He was the only one without long sleeves. He kept his arms folded underneath the black jacket he was given. There was no way it could fit him; it was tiny.

He heard Tinker’s voice ask, “Hey Drezz, arms fallen off yet?”

He laughed lightly, “No. They’re still firmly attached to me.”

A dull pinging could occasionally be heard in between the talking. A small, bouncy, rubber ball, the one that the Punk Monks were using to entertain themselves.

Ratchet piped up, “I thought you and the cold don’t get along well. How are you still holding up?”

Drezz explained, “Hargrave gave me his jacket.”

He could hear Throttle’s remark, sounding distant, “That was kind of him.”

The Doctor’s voice was closer to the microphone and had a firm tone.

He directed his question to the butler, “Why did you do that?”

The butler answered, “Well, baring skin in such a frigid environment does increase the chances of catching frostbite. We currently cannot afford sickness; it is imperative that we are all fit enough to fight.”

What couldn’t be heard through the earpieces at that moment was the scathing look the Professor gave the Doctor. The latter possessed a snow jacket, one that would have fitted Drezz.

The Doctor spied the glare from the corner of his eye.

He muttered, “Don’t give me that look.”

Drezz commented, tone sprinkled with contempt, “You know, we wouldn’t have this problem if a certain somebody didn’t want to hog a certain snow jacket just because she forgot how to wear her own.”

“Oh, shut up!” Charlemagne retorted with her chilled breath billowing from her mouth.

Her hands were wedged underneath her arms. The frost pierced through her thin coat; she would rather have had the snow jacket than her own.

Earlier, Drezz and Charlemagne began to bicker bitterly after finding out that the Doctor and Hargrave had snow jackets. Neither of them wanted to freeze like the last time they visited the caverns. They were fighting over the Doctor’s jacket; Hargrave’s was too small for either of them.

They were like children.

Then the Doctor had enough. He irately barred the two from wearing his jacket.

They stopped arguing after that.

The four adults eventually reached the ends of their paths. Drezz was greeted by the glistening barrier with the green door, Charlemagne by the glassy emerald wall, and Dom and Hargrave by the daylight.

Drezz approached the door-like patch on the wall.

He looked at the image on it, “There’s a symbol on the wall.”

Charlemagne did the same in her room, analysing the strange picture printed on the wall.

Her eyes narrowed, “Vhat is it?”

Dom beamed at the idea of being part of a mystery as he and the butler entered the outside area.

He enthusiastically asked, “What does it look like?”

Drezz described it, unsure of how to do so adequately, “Um, an X with a line through it. A bendy, wavy X.”

“It is the same on my end,” Charlemagne added.

Dom gasped with delight, “That’s the same symbol from that monk’s vision,” he kept walking, “Something big is going to happen here.”

The Doctor was unenthused, “But you still haven’t found any Monsuno essence, have you?”

Dom stopped to shrug, “We’re working on it, Doctor.”

The scientist sighed.

Dom glanced around; he had lost Hargrave.

He turned around and saw that the butler was supporting himself on the entryway, hand on his chest, eyes filled with fear.

“Clockwork Man?” Dom approached the butler who gazed back.

The butler straightened his posture, exhaling.

“I’m fine, really,” he lied.

Dom crossed his arms, “Why do you look so pale?”

“I’m always pale.”

He poked the short man in the head, “And yet you still manage to be whiter than a ghost.”

The butler flicked his head away.

He knew it was fruitless to keep dodging the question; Dom was a persistent person.

“I have seen that symbol, the one on the walls, in my dreams. It haunts me.”

Dom tilted his head to the side, “Dreams or visions?”

The butler’s shoulders dropped as his robot arms drooped somewhat.

He admitted, “Visions.”

The Doctor’s disapproval swelled in his voice, “Hargrave. You are meant to tell me whenever you have these visions. Why is this the first time I am hearing of this?”

“Oh, I know, sir,” the butler responded regretfully, “but these visions…I don’t understand what they mean. They couldn’t possibly be useful without their definition.”

The Doctor was stern, “What did they consist of?”

The butler shook his head, “Sir, I really do not wish to talk about them. They are so very unpleasant.”

“Hargrave,” the Doctor’s voice was crescendoing into a shout.

The butler was suddenly flooded with frustration. He turned to the side to address his master.

“If you insist,” he snapped harshly, “They consisted of death, death and more death. I have seen, rather disturbingly, corpses, some even rotting. That is not even mentioning how, in my recent dream, I was captured by hideous monsters who, quite frankly, I don’t want to know what they were going to do to me but one of them was attempting to suffocate me, or how I practically drowned in my own dream. Drowned. In my own dream!”

There was a shocked silence that swept the caverns and the ship. The small ball that was being bounced had been dropped. It rolled away. The butler tried to regain his composure, to calm himself down.

Drezz breathed, breaking the silence, “Jesus Christ.”

The butler glanced back at Dom. The man was wide-eyed and neutral-faced.

The realisation of what just happened washed over the butler.

He became terrified.

“D-doctor? A-are you still there?” his voice trembled.

“Yes,” the Doctor was quiet.

The butler stammered, “Apologies for that outburst, sir. I have been so fatigued lately.”

The Doctor said nothing.

Instead, the Professor spoke, “Y-you have been having n-n-night terrors?”

The butler was then reminded that everyone just heard his rant.

He responded sheepishly, “Can we please discuss this later?”

“We will,” the Doctor stated.

The butler became nervous upon hearing those words, tensing up.

Then he heard something that reassured him and caused his body to relax.

It was the Professor, “W-we’re not m-m-mad at you, Hargrave, just worried.”

On the other side, the Doctor gave the Professor a confused look.

The Professor gazed back and pointed to the microphone, “Audio only, Emmanuel.”

“Right,” the Doctor whispered under his breath, still a bit puzzled.

He was well aware that the communication line had been set up as voice only. The Professor was supposed to be the one to set it up, but the Doctor did see his butler helping him.

The Professor had forgotten how to do it. Again.

What the Doctor was perplexed about was why the Professor felt the need to say what he said.

At the caves, in the outside area, Dom viewed the butler with intrigue. Death was second-nature to him; he felt nothing towards it. His frazzled friend was clearly the opposite.

He gently grabbed the butler’s wrist, “C’mon Clockwork Man.”

He led the butler away from the rock and to the elevated surface in the middle, shoes crunching on the snow with every step.

He released the wrist and bounded onto it. He landed facing the butler in a wide stance, with hands on hips. He grinned, eager to go back to sleuthing.

“What do you think this would be?” he prompted his friend.

The butler regarded the raised surface ruminatively.

He looked at Dom, put his hands behind his back and informed, “I do believe that is a plateau you are standing on,” he raised an eyebrow, “Dare I say, you are standing on Mandala’s highest plateau.”

Dom broke his stance and quizzically gazed at the ground he was on, “Really? But it’s so short,” he smirked, “like you, Clockwork Man.”

The butler climbed onto the elevation, “I said ‘highest’ not ‘tallest’.”

Dom looked back at him and scoffed, “What’s the difference?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps, the thousands of metres above sea level we are currently at?”

The butler sarcastically smiled. Dom blinked.

He glanced down again, somewhat dejected at the mundane truth.

“So, it’s just rock?” he turned away, crouched and began to dig at the snow with his hands.

The butler watched him, bemused, “It’s a geological formation, Dom. It could be rock, earth –“

“What about brick?” Dom gleamed.

“Brick?”

The butler wandered over to Dom’s hole. Peeping underneath the snow were stone bricks.

They heard Charlemagne ask, “Vhat have you found?”

The butler answered, “It appears that we have stumbled upon a structure of sorts.”

“It could be a temple,” Drezz suggested, “The Punk Monks and I have seen one in the mountains before.”

This piqued the Doctor’s interest, “What kind of temple?”

“Er, we don’t really know, Doctor,” Tinker confessed.

The scientist gazed over his shoulder.

He grumbled, “Of course you don’t know.”

Ratchet chortled, “Whatever it was, it was in pieces when we left.”

Throttle reflected on the time when they found the temple, “I remember Team Core-Tech being there…for some reason.”

“What could you have possibly gained from attacking a temple?’ the butler questioned.

“Actually,” Drezz corrected, “that was sort of a bonus. We were tracking the Professor’s devices or, well, the guy who had them. He led us to these mountains.”

The Professor elaborated, “They were s-s-synaptic implants that I gave the man, a S.T.O.R.M. soldier at the t-time. They allowed him to h-h-hear the Monsunos.”

Dom got up, eyes glinting with recognition.

“An artificial Monsuno voice,” he stated.

“Y-y-yes, essentially.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened as his mind switched to its scheming mode. He tuned out the rest of the Professor’s story.

“His n-name was One-Eyed Jack and I b-believed that he escaped S.T.O.R.M. c-c-completely. No,” the Professor glared at the microphone, tone becoming scathing, “it t-t-turned out that a c-c-certain s-s-somebody still had access to my i-i-i-implants and were u-u-u-using them to c-c-c-control Jack!”

A quiet contemptuous chuckle came from Charlemagne.

“You’re really still mad at me for that?”

The Professor began to seethe. He slammed his hands on the terminal, dragging the Doctor from his lofty daydreaming.

The Professor shouted, “Y-y-y-you never had the r-r-r-r-right to u-u-u-use them or a-a-a-any of my t-t-t-technology!”

“Oh yes I did,” the woman derided, “you vere vorking for S.T.O.R.M., Shandler, so everything you produced vas, in fact, mine to freely use.”

The cycloptic man was now fuming, frustrated at the distance between the woman and him. He would have attempted to strangle her if she was in reach.

“Y-Y-YOU’RE A T-T-THIEF!”

Charlemagne smirked, amused by his anger, and noted, “First you call me beautiful, now you call me a thief.”

The Professor’s eye grew to the size of a saucer as his whole body seized up.

The Doctor glanced at the Professor, “What is she talking about?”

“Uh…” the Professor was unable to use his vocal cords for they had stiffened at the comment.

The woman explained herself, “During that last mission, vhen you decided to seal he and I in that ship under the sea, I caught him fantasising about me,” her tone became an aggressive hiss, “vhile I was still in the room.”

The Professor’s face was flushed, cheeks now crimson out of mortification.

The woman continued, “So, tell me, Shandler, vhich is it: do you love me or hate me? Or are you just too pathetically indecisive to choose?”

The last question stabbed the Professor in the heart with a shudder. He was too incapacitated to function properly, let alone give a coherent answer.

Drezz butted in, “Hey! You leave him alone!”

Charlemagne retaliated, “You’re acting as if he’s the victim here. Vhat about my dignity?!”

“Yeah, that wasn’t smooth what he did,” Tinker interjected, “but you’ve got no right to humiliate him like this.”

“Yeah!” the female Punk Monks agreed.

“Leave him alone!” Throttle added.

Charlemagne was appalled, “You’re siding with him?!”

“Perhaps, if you weren’t so argumentative,” Hargrave remarked calmly, “we might sympathise with you. Instead, you have the incredible knack for creating enemies every time you open your mouth.”

“Don’t you start,” she snapped back.

“Are you finished? You’re starting to give me a headache.”

“Says the man who gave us an earful of shouting earlier.”

The butler’s tone became caustic, “Oh, so I’m not allowed to show any emotions. I’m sure you would be an expert on that sort of thing. And if you truly hate us so much, I’m certain your precious S.T.O.R.M. would welcome you back with opens arms and you wouldn’t have any objections to that, considering your superiority on the subject of stoicism.”

The woman stood soundless, at a complete loss for words. Her outrage dissipated.

This wasn’t a match she could win.

Outside, Dom had the sudden urge to look up.

He did so and commented, “Charlemagne’s friends are here.”

“My vhat are here?” the woman furrowed her forehead.

Hargrave glanced upwards. His eyes popped.

Hovering directly above them was a ginormous black airship. It was surprising quiet, given its size.

He answered the woman, “The Cloud Carrier. It has found us, and it is awfully close.”

“Then what the Hell are we standing around for?” Drezz exclaimed, “Let’s get outta here!”

Dom and Hargrave ran from the snow-covered area and down the tunnel. Drezz and Charlemagne raced down their respective paths, hoping to not get cornered.

The four reached the cavern with the five doorways. They faced the main tunnel, the seemingly only way out.

They were halted by a barricade of children. It was Strike Squad.

Alpha was as smug as ever, “Nobody expects the S.T.O.R.M. Strike Squad!”

Hargrave rolled his eyes, “Nobody cares about the S.T.O.R.M. Strike Squad.”

Alpha’s smile slipped, “Hey!”

Drezz smirked, arms quickly tucking underneath the black jacket.

Tango equipped herself with her core, “Isn’t it ironic that we’ll be fighting against you, Charlemagne? You’re the one who trained us, after all.”

The woman sneered, “I vould argue that all of your performances have vorsened since my departure.”

“Is that a challenge?” X-Ray combatively asked, adjusting his glinting glasses.

Dom was suddenly filled by a strange sensation. He could ‘hear’ others Monsunos.

They were behind them.

In a single motion, he snatched a core from his sash, spun around and launched it into the tunnel he came from.

The butler scolded him, believing that the man had misaimed, “What has possessed you?”

Dom regarded him with wide wild eyes and a grin stretched from cheek to cheek.

“We need icebreakers, Clockwork Man.”

A crimson flash came from the tunnel, followed by Sauro’s cry and the yelps of children.

Drezz picked up the man’s deviousness, smiling, “Now we’re talking,” he whipped out his core and spun out, “Iguano! Launch!”

The core exploded in front of Strike Squad. The finned dinosaur emerged with a bellow. Before any of the S.T.O.R.M. elites could respond with their Monsunos, they were evading Iguano’s flamethrower beam.

Dom Pyro dashed through the third tunnel, leading the others. Turning back slightly, Drezz pointed his core at his Monsuno.

“Iguano, return!”

The dinosaur shattered into its vermillion aurora and slithered into the cylinder just as quickly as it appeared.

The four villains bounded down the tunnel, knowing that Strike Squad would soon pursue them.

Charlemagne called out to the madman, “I hope you have a plan, Dom.”

He cackled, “Get your little core ready, Charley, because we’re flying out of here!”

Charlemagne, Drezz and Hargrave readied themselves with their cores as the daylight shone at the end of the tunnel.

They skidded to a stop at the mouth of the tunnel, lining up. Before them was Sauro being badly beaten by Team Core-Tech’s Hyper Lock and Hyper Charger. It was being belted around like a pinball ball.

The three armed adults launched their cores. Dom glanced behind to see if Strike Squad had caught up to them yet.

The three cores tinged on the raised surface and erupted into red and orange light.

This caught Team Core-Tech’s attention.

Revealing themselves were the triple-headed cyborg dragon, the flying centipede and the skeletal ampithere.

There was a holler from Dax, “Hey! They’re getting away!”

Drezz hopped onto the dragon, Hargrave on the centipede and Charlemagne and Dom on the ampithere.

With a screech, the three Monsunos sprung into the air and began to flee.

The dinosaur Sauro was dealt an uppercut by the polar bear, a mighty whack, causing it to shatter and slink back to its core. Dom bemoaned its return.

The centipede turned back and floated in the air. Hargrave could see Strike Squad just reaching the snowy area.

He ordered his Monsuno, “Shadowhornet! Sonic!”

The Monsuno began to beat its wings more vigorously. Black smoke billowed from its mouth and was blown down into the area, coating it. It then emitted supersonic waves from its wings, bombarding the blinded below.

With a squeak, the centipede veered up and joined its brethren. The three flying monsters soared around the mountains, keeping close together.

“That was close!” Drezz said, jackets and hair fluttering in the wind.

The sleeves of the smaller snow jacket were tied around his neck. It was more of a cape now.

The four of them heard the Professor’s voice in their ears.

“W-w-what happened?”

“We got ambushed,” Drezz looked to Dom, “but Dom just saved our hides.”

The madman chuckled in his high-pitched voice.

“Ve’re not out of the voods yet,” Charlemagne cautioned, fringe blowing in the wind, “They have flying Monsunos, remember?”

In that instant, Hargrave felt a truly bizarre feeling: a poke on the inside of his skull. He flinched, much like if the poke had been external.

He felt the desire to turn around. He did, slowly.

He stated nonchalantly, “Speaking of which, they are following us.”

The other three glanced behind.

In the distance were nine enemy Monsunos. Leading the group was Bren on the bull-horned dragon Hyper Neo-Quickforce. Near them were Dax on the muscle bird Hyper Airswitch, Chase on the blue quad-winged bird Evo and Jinja on her butterfly-hawk Skyfall. Just behind them were Beyal on his dog-faced serpent with feathered wings, Bravo on his spear-headed dragon Hyper Deadfall, Kilo on his thick-limbed dragon Hyper Warwing and Tango on her giant beetle Hyper Ironjaw. Above them all were X-Ray and Alpha on the organic UFO Skysite, riding on two if its four heads.

Dom laughed nervously, “Oh.”

Drezz’s eyes were filled with dread, “Oh God.”

The Doctor’s voice asked, “How bad is it?”

The butler spoke cautiously, facing forwards, “Well, terrible. The odds are in their favour: 9 to 3,” a small hopeful smile appeared on his face fleetingly, “but we’ll see you on the other side.”

Suddenly, a shot from one of the opposing Monsunos whizzed straight past Drezz’s head. He ducked, startled.

“Disband formation!” Charlemagne cried.

The ampithere Acro made a hard right. Dom held on tightly, knowing that it was about to get rough. The three-headed dragon dived left frantically, reflecting its rider’s state. The winged centipede took a turn around one of the mountains and began to weave in between them.

Zooming towards the cybernetic dragon was Hyper Deadfall. Soon it was snapping at the dragon’s tail. Fire erupted from the turbines on the dragon’s thighs. It began to outrace Hyper Deadfall.

Then Hyper Warwing divebombed towards the dragon. The cyborg dipped it wing to dodge and began to violently corkscrew downwards.

“AAAAAH!”

Drezz tried to regain control. The dragon spread it wings outwards, pausing for a moment.

Suddenly, it was bombarded by shots from above. It was the butterfly-hawk, shooting from its tail.

The dragon rocketed upwards, above its foes. It blocked the sun.

“Alright Afterburn,” Drezz declared with gusto, “payback time!”

With a roar, the cybernetic dragon rained its shots down on those below from its wings. The butterfly-hawk and the spear-headed dragon were caught in the bullet hell. Hyper Warwing circled around it and bellowed rings of power at the cyborg. Afterburn countered with a triple flamethrower, shooting through the loops.

Afterburn and Hyper Warwing were both struck at the same time, shrieking from the pain.

In another part of the sky, Acro swooped about, evading the stag beetle Hyper Ironjaw’s repeated tackles. It blasted it fiery inferno at Hyper Airswitch. The muscle bird flicked its body away effortlessly.

“Ha ha! Missed!” Dax taunted.

Above them, Beyal commanded his dog-faced serpent, “Mysticblade! Sky Nova!”

The beast rose its wings, creating a ring. They began to shine a blinding light on the ampithere below.

“GAH! MY EYES!” Charlemagne quickly shielded herself.

Dom did the same, even shutting his eyes. The ampithere yowled as the light scalded its eyes. It faltered mid-air.

Dom sensed that they were about to be attacked. He rapidly reached over Charlemagne’s arms and placed his hands over hers. He pushed forwards, angling the flying serpent’s head downwards.

The ampithere swerved towards the ground, just missing Hyper Airswitch’s deadly hand scythes.

Charlemagne opened her eyes wide once they were out of the ghastly glare. She quickly pulled back, causing Acro to soar vertically into a stall. Dom retracted his hands to where they were originally.

“Firestorm!” the woman ordered her Monsuno.

Sulphuric smoke billowed from the beast’s mouth as it zoomed upwards. Its mouth then exploded with flame at the peak of its flight. It hailed fiery rocks onto its enemies, inflicting burning scratches onto the Monsunos. They wailed.

Closer to the mountains, the centipede Shadowhornet was chased by the cobalt bird Evo. It blasted the bird with a shot from its spear tail. It stopped Evo momentarily with a squawk.

Suddenly, there was a bright blue beam that was fired from above. The centipede screeched in surprise and began to fly as far away from it as possible. The beam was trailing it, courtesy of the organic UFO from above. The centipede soared almost parallel to the mountainside, beam behind cracking the rockface.

Hyper Neo-Quickforce was charging towards the creepy-crawly, intending to skewer it on its sharp bull-horns.

The butler glanced around, spying the dragon, then quietly commanded, “Drop.”

Shadowhornet’s wings snapped as it retracted them tightly against its body. It went into a freefall, dropping downwards like a rock.

The bird-faced dragon smashed into the rock with a shaky bang, startling its rider Bren.

The dragon pulled its head from the rock and flapped away awkwardly.

“You alright?” Bren asked his Monsuno.

The dragon replied with a disorientated purr.

The centipede rushed past the two in a blur, carrying the wind that battered the boy. It was quickly followed by Evo. The centipede climbed higher and higher.

It floated for a moment just above Hyper Skysite.

“Now,” was all Hargrave said.

His Monsuno’s claws on its wings became elastic. The obsidian whips wrapped around the organic UFO’s unoccupied heads.

Shadowhornet dived sharply over the UFO, dragging Hyper Skysite down with it. The beast, as well as the boys clinging tightly to it, screamed.

Evo fluttered above, with its rider witnessing the takedown with shock. The bird swooped after the plummeting Monsuno. Hyper Neo-Quickforce did the same.

The whips unravelled and returned to Shadowhornet. Hyper Skysite was still falling from the momentum, struggling to regain its balance.

It did a flip of sorts then hovered. It was joined by the bull-horned dragon and the four-winged bird.

“Alpha! X-Ray!” Chase called, “Are you guys okay?”

Alpha clutched his head with one hand, “Yeah, I think.”

X-Ray seemed to be swaying slightly. His glasses were half-off his face.

“My head’s still spinning,” he groaned as he fixed his glasses.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” Bren remarked, “You got yanked from the sky!”

Alpha looked around the airspace.

“We’ve lost him.”

Bren swore, “Ah crag.”

“Man, why does he have to be so deceptive!” X-Ray complained.

Alpha angrily added, “I’d like to see him fight with honour for once,” he held a fist in his hand, “then he’d lose.”

“Uh, fat chance that’s gonna happen, Alpha,” Chase responded, steering his azure bird upwards.

The other Monsunos followed the bird. They glided above the mountain range.

In the distance, they could see the skeletal ampithere meander its way towards them as it zigzagged past the attacks from Hyper Ironjaw, Hyper Airswitch and Mysticblade.

X-Ray smirked, spying the undead serpent’s pilot, “We’ve become worse, huh? Let’s see you dodge this.”

He commanded his Monsuno, “Cannon Shock!”

Four bright blue beams exploded from Skysite’s heads, all directed towards the serpent below.

On the serpent, Dom froze up as an awfulness flooded his body.

He latched onto Charlemagne’s controls again and jerked dramatically to the left.

The lasers whooshed past, missing by mere centimetres.

The pursuing Monsunos paused in start at the appearance of the attack.

X-Ray’s jaw dropped. The other boys were just as shocked.

On the receiving end, Charlemagne was completely baffled.

“Vhat just happened?!”

“We survived,” Dom answered hastily, pulling his hands back again, “now keep flying!”

The woman kept her head low as the ampithere she rode rocketed through the sky.

She glanced up and saw the avian dragon, azure bird and organic airship coming towards them.

“Oh excellent. Now they’re ganging up on us.”

Acro roared as it realised how truly outnumbered and outmatched it was. Oh, how it tried to evade the onslaught.

On the other side of the mountainous area, the cyborg Afterburn was still being chased by the two dragons Hyper Deadfall and Hyper Warwing.

They flew close to a mountain face.

BAM!

Warwing was suddenly bowled over by boulder. Deadfall veered away.

“Kilo!” Bravo shouted as his dragon zipped after his friend.

Drezz glanced over his shoulder. Shadowhornet was flapping away from the mountain, leaving a crevice behind.

He smiled, “I owe you one!”

The cybernetic lizard halted without warning, almost throwing its controller off. Drezz gazed forwards.

Before them was an armada of butterfly-hawks that swarmed the skies.

“Oh God,” Drezz panicked, “They’re so many of them!”

The flying centipede sliced through one of the birds. It shattered into pieces, a clone.

“Only one of them is real,” Hargrave informed.

Drezz paused to take a breath. He began to search for anything that would indicate the real Monsuno in a more relaxed state.

Hargrave, on the other hand, was taking a more proactive approach and was eliminating all the clones, bursting them one by one.

Drezz saw Jinja. He grinned.

None of the other Monsunos have a rider.

“Aim for the girl,” he directed his beast.

Fiery beams burst from Afterburn’s heads and swirled towards the real Skyfall.

Frightened, the girl jerked her Monsuno away from the flames. Her enemies had seen through the trick.

The bird was hit in the face by Shadowhornet’s orb. It began to fall, spinning uncontrollably.

“Now let’s get out of here, once and for all!” Hargrave announced.

“That’s easy for you to say!” Dom’s voice was frantic, “We’re getting swamped over here!”

The butler hesitated, thinking, then said, “I have an idea. Fly low, in between the mountains.”

“Are you out of you mind?!” Charlemagne berated.

“Trust me,” he gestured to Drezz to follow him.

Acro dipped dangerously low to the snowy ground, in between the mountains. Snapping at the serpent’s tail were five of the enemy Monsunos; Hyper Skysite remained above the commotion.

Dom and Charlemagne spied up ahead their team’s cybernetic dragon and winged centipede. They stayed at a level higher than them but below the organic UFO.

“NOW!” Hargrave commanded.

Afterburn pelted the surrounding mountains with its wing bullets. Shadowhornet emitted its supersonic waves from its wings that bombarded the snowy cliff faces.

Acro zoomed underneath the two Monsunos as the surroundings began to tremble.

Avalanches of snow and rock thundered down the mountains, crashing onto the pursuing monsters unfortunate enough to be caught in them. Shrieking from human and creature alike filled the air as they were buried under the cascading sludge.

Alpha and X-Ray, watching from above, were wide-eyed, gobsmacked.

Their ride shuddered as it was dealt one final attack from the flying centipede before swooping away.

Acro and Afterburn were quickly creating distance between them and the enemies. Shadowhornet, because of the attack, was lagging behind the others.

An electric ball whizzed in front of the centipede, cutting it off from the group, causing it to rear. Hargrave glanced in the direction of the orb’s origin.

The spear-headed Hyper Deadfall and arrow-headed Hyper Warwing looked completely unscathed. Skyfall seemed particularly peeved.

More balls of electricity were hurled at the centipede, driving it upwards.

Exploding from the snow with a cry was Hyper Airswitch. Dax gazed into the sky and saw the flying centipede struggling to dodge the shots from the three Monsunos, fraught in its flight. The boy snarled, knowing exactly who the rider was.

He had a history with Eklipse. Everything he cared about, his family and his home, were all stolen from him when they destroyed his hometown. Because of them, he was displaced and alone for the most of his childhood.

He could never forgive them for that. The desire for revenge shone intensely within the boy, even more so after the Doctor’s escape from permanent imprisonment.

And the Doctor would still be there if it were not for that bloody butler.

He spectated the flying centipede as it was forced to spiral higher and higher into the skies above the mountains.

Hyper Skysite fired its beams at the solitary red Monsuno.

BANG!

The beast flailed around as the sound of it being hit cracked the sky like a whip.

Drezz, Charlemagne and Dom looked back. They halted their flight when they saw that the butler was in trouble.

With a couple of flaps, the centipede steadied itself. It was still in the air.

Hargrave was slightly dazed. He glanced down.

They were at a vertigo-inducing height in the sky. The air was markedly thinner here. He could see the fallen snow become speckled with the heads of Strike Squad, Team Core-Tech and their giant beasts.

Then he spotted a cobalt dot, rapidly growing in size.

Terror struck the butler when he realised that it was a Monsuno.

Hyper Airswitch.

It was ablaze with azure, fuelled by its controller’s fury, hurtling upwards with its scythes.

Everything seemed to happen so quickly at that point.

The whack of the blades.

The way that Shadowhornet curled as it was sliced in half.

How the Monsuno evaporated.

How the butler yelped as he was wrenched downwards.

In a blink of an eye, Hargrave was plummeting from the great height. The crimson aurora snaked into his coat pocket, into its core.

He waved his arms and legs helplessly, as if he was trying to swim in the sky. It was futile; the world below seemed to be sucking him down with a force too strong to resist.

He grabbed the harness for his robot arms as the wind gushed passed him. The drill heads retracted as propellers sprung out.

They tried to spin to speed. The arms were waving too wildly in the open space.

He couldn’t fly.

He closed his eyes, engulfed with a sense of helplessness.

He didn’t want to see the ground when he hit it.

WHAM!

His whole body jolted as he opened his eyes again. He was still in the air, still moving.

He sat up and looked around.

He was on Afterburn’s back. The dragon was jetting away from the chaotic battleground.

He heard an incredibly nervous Professor ask, “H-H-Hargrave, are you still a-a-alive?”

The entire Eklipse Resistance ship, tense from hearing the butler’s scream, was completely silent, awaiting the answer.

Awash with relief, the butler replied, “Yes, Professor, I am still alive.”

Drezz glanced back and gave the butler a smile.

“He’s with me,” he reported, “I owed him one.”

The ship relaxed again upon hearing the voices.

The Doctor questioned, “What happened to you?”

“Well,” the butler was quietly elated to hear his master’s voice, “I was struck down, sir. But I’m fine now.”

“I’m starting to not believe you when you say that.”

The butler smirked at the Doctor’s comment.

He gazed behind and saw the muscle bird high in the sky, a tiny speck. The propeller blades of his robot arms reverted to claws. The cyborg dragon made a turn around a mountain. It had caught up to the ampithere Acro.

The two Monsunos flew side-by-side. Afterburn’s turbines shut off, using its wings to propel itself. They were flying low in between the mountains.

Dom called out, “You gave us a scare, Clockwork Man!”

“Yes,” the butler sighed, “I’m glad that’s over.”

Charlemagne concurred, “That vas utter madness. Let us never do that again.”

Drezz glanced at the Monsunos. They looked incredibly drained.

He began to think about the amount of time left before they returned to their cores, “How far away from the ship are we?”

The Doctor reminded, “We’re near the ice caves, north of them. How far away from them are you?”

Drezz studied his surroundings, “Uh…good question.”

“You no idea, do you?”

“Yup.”

The butler remarked, observing the area, “I suspect that we have been driven south of the caves, sir.”

Suddenly, to all four of their horrors, the cyborg dragon began to glow orange. The skeletal ampithere was the same but it was crimson.

Hargrave quickly snapped a core to his launcher and shot it at the cliff face above them.

The wyvern Dactyl emerged from the core’s light. It swooped below the fatigued Monsunos. The butler leapt into the air, caught the core and landed on his beast’s back. The others did the same as their rides shattered and returned to their tiny cylinders.

A thought came to Charlemagne.

She directed it to the butler, “If you had this Monsuno the entire time, vhy didn’t you summon it vhile you were falling?”

“That is an excellent question,” he paused to contemplate the near-death experience, “There wasn’t really anything that I could have thrown the core against.”

“Vhat about the mountains below?”

He blinked.

“Now that you mention it, that does seem rather obvious. However, it never crossed my mind.”

“Really?” the woman crossed her arms, “That vould’ve been the first thing that came to my mind.”

The man with the robot arms turned to her, “Oh, I’m only human!”

Dom happened to glance up. He did a double-take.

Hovering like a sleek shadowy cloud, a black quad-winged bird was in the sky.

Dom softly stated, “We’re being trailed.”

The others looked in the same direction.

Charlemagne’s face dropped, recognising the Monsuno she once used, “That’s Blackbullet. It can easily break the sound barrier and run rings around us. There’s no vay ve’re outmanoeuvring that thing.”

“Who the Hell would be the pilot?” Drezz puzzled, “I thought we already dealt with all the kids!”

“Six,” the butler answered, “He was using that very Monsuno against me the last time we met.”

A silly smile spread across Dom’s face; he had a wicked idea.

“Can I borrow your launcher, Clockwork Man?”

The butler raised an eyebrow as he pulled his launcher out to hand to him.

“What on Earth are you up to?”

The madman giggled, snapping his core to it.

Above, Six was indeed following them, monitoring their movements.

He reported to his earpiece, “They have seen me and,” the boy’s eyes narrowed, “what is Dom doing?”

“You are the one with the eyes here,” replied the authoritative voice of the Commandant Marshall, “Describe it.”

“He’s been given a launcher and has clipped his core to it,” Six’s eyes widened, “He’s aiming it at me.”

A small bang sent the core hurtling towards the giant black bird. The bald boy could only watch as it created a crimson streak in the sky. It struck the creature’s chest.

With a burst of light, six spiky insectoid legs hooked onto the bird. Blackbullet squawked with alarm. A long, bony neck stretched upwards. A sharp-toothed brontosaurus was looking down on the boy.

Six felt a sinking sensation.

He hollered, “Mayday! Mayday! I’m going down!”

The dinosaur, still somewhat spacey, was bringing the bird down with its sheer weight. The bird nose-dived.

It still was tumbling down as the dinosaur was returned.

It crash-landed, head becoming buried in the snow. The boy was thrown off his ride from the force and rolled in the snow.

He heard the Commandant Marshall in his ear, “Six! Come in, Six!”

He got up with a groan, “I am here, sir. I crashed.”

His Monsuno pulled and pulled at its head, feet skidding in the slushy whiteness. He gazed up and saw the skeletal wyvern fly away with a whoosh.

The boy said, disheartened, “They have escaped, sir.”

“Be that as if may,” the Commandant Marshall stated, “you have still provided invaluable information as to their whereabouts. They may have slipped our grasp this time, but next time they will not be so lucky.”

The boy beamed, “Yes, Commandant Marshall.”

                                                ***************

The door slid shut with a soft clank.

The Doctor had led Hargrave into his disorganised office.

He needed to speak to his butler. Alone.

The butler stood quietly, hiding his timorousness, as his master circled around to face him.

The Doctor regarded him fully and critically. He crossed his arms.

The butler was somewhat shame-faced, “I really am sorry about earlier.”

“I’m aware,” the Doctor sighed, “But this is only the tip of the iceberg. You have been acting abnormally all week.”

The butler’s eyes flickered to the side and back.

He frowned, “Have I?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” the Doctor’s nose twitched, “I have known you for a very long time, Hargrave, and I know you well. You’ve become more aloof, less talkative, as if,” he paused to find the right phrase, “you have lost your spirit.”

The events of the last week replayed in the butler’s mind. He skimmed through them, analysing the interactions between him and his master.

He had hushed himself around the Doctor. In fact, he had been more withdrawn around everyone, barely cracking a smile.

And it all began after the failed mission at Coastal City.

The butler was brought back to the present as the Doctor placed his hands on his shoulders.

The Doctor said, “I am going to ask you once and only once. And all I want from you is to give me a straight answer. I’m not asking for you to announce it to the world either,” he pointed to himself, “it’s just me,” he replaced his hand on the shoulder, taking another breath, “What is going on?”

Hargrave carefully pushed the hands off his shoulders and stepped backwards.

“Well,” he began, “as you found out, I haven’t been sleeping.”

“And you’re tired, yes,” the Doctor gestured to the butler to get on with it.

He knew that it was going to be a challenge to get the man to open up, given his reserved nature.

“Those dreams really do haunt me, sir,” the butler’s expression was slightly pained.

The Doctor highlighted, “You have done worse in the past, while awake.”

The butler admitted, “And yet I still find it confronting sometimes.”

His eyes darted to the side, then to the ground.

The Doctor knew that wasn’t it, but it was a start. He wanted the rest of the confession.

“There’s something else at play here, isn’t there? It’s can’t be just sleep; you get the least amount out of all of us and that has always been the case.”

The butler seemed to shuffle back. The Doctor turned his head slightly out of suspicion.

The butler hesitated before speaking delicately, “I always do have a lot on my mind, sir,” he gazed back to his master, “but those are private matters. They are my problems and mine alone.”

There was a spark of exasperation in the Doctor’s eyes.

He explained, “Your problems become mine when they prevent you from doing your job properly.”

The butler shuffled back even more. His harness, very softly, clinked on the metal door.

He shrunk slightly, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to burden you with such trivial matters, sir.”

At that moment, the Doctor realised that Hargrave was moments from running away, for which he would have dragged his butler back into the room by the collar of his shirt. But by that point, the man wouldn’t say another truthful word, thanks to fear.

He had to tread lightly to not startle the butler. He despised the precariousness of the situation; he preferred to be in control.

The Doctor exhaled, attempting to sound as calm as possible, “What is it that is gnawing at you, however benign it might be?”

The butler heard the infuriation that tinged the Doctor’s voice. He knew that if he tried to flee, what every cell in his body was telling him to do, he would be wrenched back into the room. He knew that the Doctor was an impatient man prone to violence.

He knew that if he didn’t give the Doctor anything, he was never going to leave that room.

He shyly answered his master’s question, “I have wondered if I annoy you, sir.”

“Annoy me?” the Doctor blinked, statement coming out of left field.

“Y-yes,” the butler’s eyes flicked down evasively, “I mean, I do blather quite a bit,” he looked back to his master, “Surely that would irritate you eventually, hearing me waste my breath?”

“At first, it did,” the Doctor stated, “but I have habituated to it. It’s one of your,” he scanned the butler, “many quirks.”

“Oh, well, there you go,” the butler feigned relief, “It wasn’t as bad as I believed it was,” he briefly mustered a fake smile.

The Doctor saw through it instantly. He turned his back to his butler, hands forming rock-hard fists.

The butler’s eyes darted to the fists than at the switch to open the door. His heart rate had elevated.

The Doctor said, still trying to hide his true wrath, “It is crystal clear to me that you are not going to tell me any more, no matter how much I try to force your hand. You always have kept our cards close to your chest.”

The butler braced himself, anticipating some sort of thrashing.

The Doctor turned his head, “So, just leave.”

The butler’s eyes widened with wariness.

“Leave?”

The Doctor faced the butler side on, “Yes. It’s so painfully obvious that all you want to do is run away. Go.”

The butler gingerly pressed the button for the door. It slid open. He stepped out of the room. He turned to the side, about to walk away.

“And Hargrave.”

He looked at his master, ears pricked by his name.

“Yes sir?”

There were flames in the Doctor’s eyes, “Whatever those problems are, you better deal with them.”

The butler bowed obediently before racing away.

He sped around some of the corners, trying to create as much space between him and the Doctor, before his pace decelerated. He tried to ease himself, to have his heart mimic his pace.

It was true that he had wondered if his conversational nature bugged the Doctor, but that was a minor issue. It was also true that he had been kept up at night by the imagery of the visions.

But anxiety had become a bed-mate within the last week, visiting in the dead of night. He was troubled, ironically, about his own wellbeing, specifically his happiness, or lack of it.

He was still thinking about the last thing Six had said to him.

With all those sleepless nights, he pondered about the source of the denial to something so fundamental as his joy.

He pinpointed the origin: Emmanuel.

The ambivalence towards his master caused the insomnia. On one hand, the butler had learnt that he couldn’t tread normally around Emmanuel; he always had to tiptoe around his master and only had recently realised how genuinely frightened he was. On the other, he was willing to look past his master’s flaws, no matter how toxic they were; he still loved him.

Now, he had to hide in the dark before the Doctor illuminated the reality of what was going on.

The butler turned around another corner.

He stopped, straining his ears.

There was shouting coming from one of the rooms up ahead.

There were two voices: a man and a woman.

He began to eavesdrop.

The man was completely distraught, “H-H-HOW COULD YOU D-D-DO THAT TO ME?!”

The woman was incredibly condescending, “Vhat? Embarrass you in front of everyone?”

“Y-Y-YES!”

She laughed at him, “You really thought you could get away vith degrading me,” she became scathing, “using that disgusting mind of yours.”

The man sounded flustered, “N-n-n-no! I-I-It’s not like that, I-I-I swear! Q-q-q-quite t-the o-o-o-opposite...”

There was a silence as the man’s words lingered in the air. The butler could sense the disgust seeping from the room, spilling from the cracks of the door.

The woman’s voice suddenly slashed through the soundlessness, filled with revulsion.

“You deserve every bad thing that has happened to you, you miserable excuse for a man!”

The man gasped. He made a sort of blabbering sound as he tried to form a sentence.

The woman was far from finished, “Did you really believe that I vould ever reciprocate,” her voice cringed, “your feelings towards me?”

The man’s voice was broken, “U-uh…w-w-w-well…I-I-I…”

“Let me put you out of your little misery, Shandler,” she spat the name out contemptuously, “I vill never love you. NEVER!” her voice flared with passionate rage, “If I still had it my vay, you vould be vorking for ME! Not the other vay around in this pitiful set-up!”

The butler froze, recognising the type of anger she possessed.

Her voice became low and threatening, “If I still had it my vay, I vould beat those thoughts out of you. And there vould be nothing you could do to stop it.”

The butler expressed vicarious horror for the man. He couldn’t quite believe his ears.

She continued, “In fact, the only thing holding me back now is someone else finding out.”

The butler thought, Like me.

The woman barked viciously, “Now get out of my sight!”

Suddenly the door opened. The butler scurried to the nearest corner and hid behind it, peering from the side.

The Professor staggered from the room. His head was looking down at the ground. He clutched his cane tightly, hands trembling. He strode swiftly away from the room, in the opposite direction to the butler.

Then Charlemagne exited the room, pausing outside the door for a moment.

The butler quickly ducked behind the wall, heart jolted by her appearance.

He stood tall, sweeping his nerves under the rug. He could hear her footsteps approach the corner.

He was just going to walk past her. Nothing to it.

He stepped from the corner, trying to act natural.

Charlemagne was right there in front of him.

He almost jumped out of his skin.

“Oh, hello Charlemagne,” he politely greeted.

She death-glared him. He stepped to the side submissively to let her through.

She kept going, as silent as a phantom.

He watched her stroll around the other corner as her jacket licked it. He exhaled. He just dodged a bullet. He knew of the woman’s notorious ferocity and he had heard the Professor mention previously that he feared her.

But the butler had no idea about her callousness.

His attention turned to the Professor, who was wounded badly by the woman’s barrage. He followed the corridor in the direction he saw the man go.

He walked rapidly, mentally assessing which place in the massive ship would be the Professor’s most likely location.

He came to a series of shut doors. Bedrooms.

He caught another sound.

Crying.

The butler wandered towards the Professor’s room. The sound of ugly weeping originated from the door.

He knocked it lightly, “Professor?”

A whimpering voice came from the door, “L-l-l-leave me a-a-alone.”

The butler knew that he couldn’t stop the floodgates, no matter what he did. But he still wanted to help.

“Shall I get the tissues, Professor?”

He waited patiently for a response. There was a slight delay as the question registered on the other side.

The man in the room snivelled, “P-please.”

Hargrave was off again, heading towards the kitchen. He would get a fresh box of tissues. The Professor sounded like he needed every one of them.

A turn here, another there, a left and a right, and the butler reached the kitchen.

He headed towards the pantry, walking into it. It was essentially another smaller room attached to the kitchen.

The tissues were hiding underneath one of the shelves, on the ground, for ease of access. He got onto one knee, pulled a box out and got up again.

He could hear light-hearted talking as a group of people entered the kitchen.

He got to the doorway and almost crashed into Drezz.

“Oh, hi Hargrave,” said the man with the headband.

The butler responded with a smile and a nod as he switched places with him. The other Punk Monks were there.

Ratchet gestured to the butler while talking to her comrades, “Hey, maybe he knows where he is.”

The butler stopped in his tracks and regarded the four, “Where who is?”

Tinker turned to him, “The Professor. We haven’t seen him since you and Drezz got back.”

The butler became saddened when he thought of the Professor’s state.

He infected the room with concern.

Throttle glanced at his hand, “Why do you have those tissues?”

The butler looked at his hand briefly then back at her, “They’re for the Professor.”

“What happened to him?” Drezz approached the butler, worry growing.

The butler sighed and stated solemnly, addressing everyone, “He discovered Charlemagne’s true colours and they were more hideous than what I ever expected.”

Throttle put a hand over her mouth. Indignation flared in Ratchet’s eyes.

“So, she hurt him?” Tinker asked.

The butler nodded, “With words. In an argument.”

“It’s only fair that we get revenge,” Ratchet declared, holding combative fists up.

Her teeth gritted, “And I’m gonna pound her to a pulp!”

Throttle joined in, “Yeah, and I’m gonna wring her neck out!” she mimed the action.

Drezz interrupted the women’s plotting, “Maybe we should go see him first.”

The butler warned, “I highly advise against that, given his current condition. The best thing that we can do is let him be.”

“Oh,” the man realised that he was powerless in this situation.

The butler continued, regarding the women, “As for you ‘plans’,” he mimicked the quotation marks with his fingers, “this is exactly what she wants.”

“What?” Tinker snarked, “To be beaten up?”

“No. Disorder within the team.”

“Uh, hello. It’s Forge’s motto to cause chaos.”

“But would you like that chaos to effectively disband your team?”

There was a quietness in the room as the gravity of the situation hit them.

The butler elaborated, “Charlemagne wants us to fight among ourselves, even if it is with her. It paralyses us, leaving us vulnerable to our enemies. Think about earlier in the ice caves: we were so busy bickering that we almost got captured.”

Drezz queried, “You really think she would be the kind of person to do that, even if it means she ends up in prison as a result?”

“If what I have heard about her is correct,” the butler said gravely, “then absolutely.”

The room was now full of sorrowful faces. The butler’s words slowly sunk in.

He began to head towards the door, “Now, if you would excuse me, I still need to deliver these tissues.”

He departed from the room, leaving a depression behind, pace hastening as he did.

He followed the warren-like corridors back to the bedrooms.

He walked up to the blubbering door, ripping off the cardboard that covered the opening of the box. He slipped the cardboard into his pocket.

“Professor,” he softly announced his return.

In between sniffling, the Professor requested, “J-j-j-just leave it a-a-at the door.”

“As you wish,” the butler gently laid the box on the ground in front of the door.

He stepped back and watched as the door rose. The room was dark, lit by the hallway light. On the floor in the room, catching the light, was the metal muzzle that normally covered the Professor’s nose and mouth.

Stretching from one side of the door was the Professor’s cane. It swayed, unbalanced, as it moved in front of the box, pushing it tentatively into the room.

The door slid down again.

The butler began to wander away, reflecting on what he just witnessed.

He had never actually seen the Professor eat or drink. Or even remove that mask. No one had.

And now the shard of the man’s shell had been taken off, leaving him exposed in the shadows.

Hargrave knew that love was like the ice caves in the mountains: it could enchant with its lustre, fill one with utter awe, but one had to be careful to not be led astray into some trap. Otherwise, one will become forlorn and soon be numb from the frigidity.

And the poor Professor leant that the hard way.

[phanwithextrafluffontop-blog]

Payback

Summary: After playing Dan’s Hello Internet video, Phil has to make sure Dan isn’t upset with him before proposing.

Genre: Fluff, Proposal, Pouty!Dan A bit of angst (wow look I actually branched out for once) 

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2, 237

“Hi,”

“My name is… Dan.”

Phil heard about five loud stomps until his boyfriend was standing in the doorway. Phil’s legs tensed up.

“Why in the hell are you playing that?” Dan’s face was completely deadpan. He loathed that video, and he would do anything to stop it from playing. He really wanted to just make it private. Every new view on that video was a new tear in Dan’s heart. At one point, Dan had come so close to taking the video down that he was just a click away from ending his humiliation. In the end, it was Phil who convinced him otherwise.

Usually, in situations like this, Phil would just say he was playing around and turn the video off. But this time, he couldn’t turn it off. He needed it. Why? Because he was planning for his proposal.

Phil knew he had wanted to propose to Dan for at least six months. The problem wasn’t that he was shy, it was that he didn’t know how to do it. He wasn’t exactly the best with words, especially in tense situations, so that made it even harder for him to plan something for his boyfriend.

Finally, after months of brainstorming, Phil had come to a decision. He made videos for a living, so why not use one to propose? He could edit together a few videos of theirs and, viola! A proposal in the making! And Phil knew exactly what video to start with- Hello Internet.

-

Phil knew he should’ve worn headphones while watching it, but he figured his volume was low enough that Dan wouldn’t hear it playing all the way from the lounge. He was wrong.

“Phil, why?” Dan shortened his original question, hoping it would make it easier for Phil to respond. Phil felt a soft shiver of fear run through his spine. Dan didn’t usually get this mad.

“I was… uh… doing it for a video.” Phil tried to piece together some form of an answer, but he knew the lie wouldn’t work. “Phil, don’t fucking lie to me,” Dan warned while leaning an arm on the back of Phil’s chair. He was furious at this point. Phil knew this video wound Dan up, but he honestly thought he was overreacting. Letting go of his nervousness, Phil calmly got up from his chair, making his eyes level with the other boy’s coffee brown eyes.

“Dan, listen to me,” Phil whispered, lightly placing a hand on Dan’s shoulder. Pulling Dan’s head closer to his, Phil spoke again. “I’m sorry, al-”

“No! Get the fuck off me!” Dan spat, pushing his boyfriend off of him and briskly making his way out of the room. “Dan, wait!” Phil tried to chase after Dan, but he immediately stopped when his boyfriend’s plain white door to his bedroom slammed on his face, quite literally almost hitting his nose. Dan trapped himself in his room. And he stayed there all day.

Phil knew better than to bother Dan. In times like these, it was best to leave him alone for at least the rest of the day. Dan needed some time to cool down, and Phil respected that. However, things heated up once again when it was time for bed.

Dan had secretly grabbed a bowl of cereal for his dinner, and he barely ended up eating it. After placing it back down on his nightstand, he fell asleep without a second thought.

Wearing his cookie monster pajama bottoms, Phil inched Dan’s door open. Noticing Dan was already asleep, he figured he would just slip into Dan’s bed for tonight. They usually slept in Phil’s bed, but Phil could make an exception. Moments after he was settled in, Dan pushed the bare back of his boyfriend so hard that he launched out of his bed onto the dark-carpeted floor. “Dan!” Phil croaked, coughing afterwards. “Get out,” Dan mumbled, turning his back to Phil in bed. Phil turned to leave, until he realized something. He could fight back. “No,” Phil uttered, keeping his back turned to Dan. “I won’t leave.”

Phil winced at the long moment of silence that lingered after he snapped back at Dan. After what seemed like (and was) three minutes, Phil turned around and squinted at the younger boy. The room was completely dark, so seeing was a challenge. But Phil had no difficulty realizing that Dan had fallen asleep.

After debating over what to do for a quick moment, Phil climbed back into Dan’s bed, reaching a hand onto Dan’s bare chest, and taking the sleeping boy’s hand with the other. “My little sleeping angel,” Phil whispered as softly as possible. Moments later, he opened his eyes abruptly at a gentle voice.

“Phiw?” Dan uttered. He was obviously half asleep. “Yeah, bear?” Phil was so pleased he could speak to Dan again. His Dan.

“Why… why would you… play that? The… video?” Dan stuttered, struggling to find any words in such a dreamy state. He sleepily rubbed his face like a young child would. Phil let out a gentle giggle and sighed. “All in good time, my little bear,” He patted Dan’s head. “All in good time.”

-

Finally waking from his groggy state, Phil sat up from his boyfriend’s plain bed and slowly reached for his glasses. Phil trudged through the hallway and peeked around the door of their kitchen to check if Dan was there. Nope. Expecting to see him in his usual browsing position on his laptop, Phil was surprised when he saw Dan sitting on their couch with the TV on. He was slumped over- obviously not actually watching the nature documentary currently playing.

“Dan?” Phil reluctantly spoke, hoping that Dan would no longer be angry from their fight the previous day. It seemed that Dan was nearly asleep because of his sudden jolt at the call of his name. “Wha- Oh.” He sounded almost disappointed. Dan maintained a completely blank face while staring at Phil. No words. Not yet. Phil felt his leg twitching. If he’s still upset, I… Phil’s mind raced in a million different directions. What if Dan was still mad? Would he not even talk to him? Would he move out? What then? What would happen to his career and his-

“Phil,” Dan stopped Phil’s pounding heart by saying his name. Suddenly, a wide smile grew across his face. Phil had no idea what was going on. Was this whole thing a joke? “Phil, come here!” Dan had to grab Phil’s attention yet again, and this time, instead of debating over what was going to happen next, Phil jumped onto the couch with his boyfriend. Nestling into a warm pillow fort with Dan by his side, Phil could finally relax.

-

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what happened to me. I was having a bad day, and the last thing I wanted to do was joke around.” Dan explained his fit to Phil. Nodding his head, Phil spoke in a half-whisper. “You were really salty.” Giggling, he turned to Dan, who was curled up on his left side. Dan rolled his eyes and started to draw his head in closer to Phil’s. Phil got the hint, and they exchanged a few minutes of warm kisses on their cheeks. Phil had gotten past the first hurdle. Now, only a big boulder stood in his way of complete happiness. That boulder, was the proposal.

-

Watching the video for the probably hundredth time, Phil closed his laptop. His phone buzzed with a text from Dan, or “Danny Boi”, as his contact read. “Be back in a few ❤” Phil sprang from his seat at the desk and hopped down the stairs to their lounge. He couldn’t stop bouncing while turning the television on to show the video he had so very carefully crafted. Was this it? Was it finally time to propose?

Click. A few minutes later, Phil heard the familiar sound of their door closing. He had a final jitter of excitement before he hurried into their kitchen to hide. “They didn’t have the taco kit we usually-” Dan’s groan was quickly cut off by the television blaring a video. “Wha-” Instead of turning into the kitchen, Dan entered the lounge, amused by the programming on TV. What video was playing? The one that started it all- Phil’s Video Blog – 27th March 2006.

Dan let out a loud laugh hearing the beginning of his boyfriend’s first video. He continued laughing until the screen flashed to an image of his old bedroom. Hello Internet started playing. “Phil, I thought we were done with this!” an angry Dan screamed. Phil kept in his chuckle, hoping he wouldn’t reveal his location. Like Phil’s first video, Hello Internet was cut off after Dan said his name. The next video: PINOF 1.

After a few of the best moments of that video of pure phanservice, it cut to the next PINOF. And the next one. Until they reached number eight. At this point, Dan obviously had known something was up, but what came next completely took him by surprise.

The video had cut to one of their many baking videos, but only for a clip of Phil saying I. Next came an AmazingPhil video. Love. The Extinction Race video. You. The screen jumped to many more different videos, each of them saying just a word.

I

Have

For

A long time

So…

Phil tensed up in the other room. This was the moment. It was finally here. Phil couldn’t explain the intense mix of happiness and nervousness building up inside him. Fighting the strong feeling of panic, he reached his hand into his pocket and grasped his fingers around a small, navy blue box. Nodding his head, he stepped out into the hallway.

Daniel

James

Howell

Will

You

The video cut to black. Phil was kneeling behind Dan. It was all in place. Phil took a deep breath.

“Marry me?” Phil uncertainly asked, nearly dropping the ring box from his shaky hands. Dan turned around, revealing a face full of tears. He could barely speak, let alone answer the most important question of his life. He squealed a soft, “Yes!” while wrapping his arms around Phil. The box flew out of Phil’s now weak hands, but he didn’t care. Squeezing his fiancé with all his might, he couldn’t hold in the tears. He had done it. He had caught the elusive Dan Howell. And he was never letting go.

-

“Wait, hand me your phone, I think I found it,” Phil uttered as he carefully balanced his tall body over the TV stand. Dan turned on the flashlight and handed his phone over, still uneasy from the events earlier. “No, that’s just the box.” Phil inspected the suede container. No ring. “Did you seriously lose the ring, you spork?” Phil sighed, thinking Dan was upset with him. Until, of course, he looked up and saw the stupid grin on his fiancé’s face. He couldn’t even speak. He just playfully jabbed Dan in the face and continued looking for the ring.

“Phil, just sit down. It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Dan reassured while taking a seat on their grey sofa. “But I-” “Phil.” He knew Dan didn’t really care about him finding the ring, but he still felt like someone was breathing down his neck, pressuring him to locate the gold band.

Phil let out a dramatic sigh while slumping down next to Dan. He was obviously disappointed in himself. The one night he wasn’t supposed to screw up and he did.

Dan leaned his head on Phil’s shoulder and let his heart eyes loose. Phil’s blushing cheeks told it all. He was already feeling better, and he leaned into the cuddle. Reaching his neck over to Dan, he gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. With that, Dan smiled and closed his eyes. “Ring or no ring, we’re still engaged.” Dan tried to brighten Phil’s thoughts, and Phil appreciated that. He just couldn’t get it out of his head.

“I know, I just-” Phil was cut off by a strong shimmer coming from in between the couch cushions. Like an animal attacking its prey he dove his arm inside the couch. Dan jumped up and watched the boy tear their couch apart. Instead of speaking, Dan just stood there. He knew what had happened.

Phil surrounded the ring by his hand and brought it up from the dark hole it was in. They exchanged a smile and a laugh until Phil got up and stood next to Dan. “Now,” Phil started. “Will you marry me?” yet again, tears formed in Dan’s eyes as he croaked out another joyous, “Yes!”. Phil took Dan’s hand and slid the shining ring on. They were both speechless. Phil was finally happy.

-

“What next?” Phil asked as he stopped Netflix from playing the next episode of AHS from playing. “Well, I was thinking something on YouTube,” Dan suggested, grabbing the remote from Phil. “Really?” Phil had no idea as to what Dan could possibly want to watch on YouTube, but he went with it anyway. “Yeah, but it’s a surprise, so close ‘em.” Phil sighed and waited with his eyes closed. “What is it?” He asked excitedly. After about a minute, he heard a familiar voice coming from the TV.

“Hello, this is Phil and welcome to my video blog.”

“Payback.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry it’s been so long since my last update. Things were crazy with Easter (by the way I hope you had a good Easter or whatever you do this time of year) and I wanted to write a longer fic (longer than what I usually write this is really short compared to some). I hope you enjoyed it as I had a good time writing it!

[xfandomqueenblrx-blog]

Are You Mine? *Part 1*

Gif isn’t mine

Requested: Angst Request Please?, au where everyone see all in black and white until you see the eyes of your soulmate, reader see the colors when she see the eyes of Newt, but he can't, she lies about the colors time pass and reader tells Tina "take care for him" and gellert hurts reader, she confess she loves newt and then dies. Years pass and Newt name his daughter like reader because reader Dreams about have scamander for last name. Sorry english is not my language. also Tina and Newt are soulmates! <3

Part 2

Thank you so much for the request! I was thinking of doing an angst fic but I wasn’t sure what to do, so this is a great request! I mean sad, but great lol

Warnings: Angst, angst angst angnsnsngnsnfddjffkdffjssjfdsj (im so sorry lmao)

Author: @xfandomqueenblrx (me)

Word count: 1,718

DO NOT post on other sites and claim as your work. 

Reblogs are fine.

Please leave feedback and ways I can improve my writing!! As they say, there’s always room to improve.

Now, enjoy!!

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The sounds of trains and people rushing around filled your ears, the usual black and white colors flooding your vision. You held your bag close to you to avoid any pick pocketers walking around. You walked to the closest bench by platform three and waited. 

Today was the day you were going to meet your new co-worker. You were a trained medical assistant and you were sent by the Ministry of Magic to assist a man by the name of Newt Scamander. Reports told you that he was a researcher of magical animals, and he needed your help in case he ever got hurt. You’d never been in a situation where you’ve had to help a magizoologist before, heck, you’ve never even met one, but you were excited to start a new adventure. 

“Miss, excuse me, are you Miss Y/n?”

You looked up to see the most beautiful green eyes you could see. Your eyes widened, and looking around you started to see colors you would have never imagined to exist. A large grin settled upon your face and you couldn’t help but squeal and stand up from your seat. 

Everything looked so beautiful.

You looked back at the man standing in front of you. He had a long blue coat on and he was holding a worn out suitcase in his right hand. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, but he had a soft smile on his face. Freckles dotted his nose and cheeks, giving him a cute appearance. He had reddish brown, curly hair tousled on top of his head. Oh good God, could it be?

This was your soulmate!

“Miss, are you alright? Is there something wrong?”

Now it was your turn to be confused. Could he not see the colors too? No, that couldn’t be possible... Right?

Your smile slowly started to fade. “Y-yes, I’m Y/n. What’s your name?” 

“Newt Scamander. I believe you must be assisting me on my trips.” He held out his hand for you to shake. You took it, immediately feeling a spark when your skin touched. Surprised, you jolted a little bit before slowly shaking his hand and letting go.

“I’m sorry if I seem a little jumpy, I-I... Do you not see it too?” You slowly looked up to his face once again to see a confused expression on his face. 

That proved your suspicions right, then. He couldn’t see the colors.

“See what? Did one of my animals escape again?” Newt quickly looked down and checked the lock on his suitcase. He saw that it was closed shut, but just to be sure he turned around, surveying the area. 

You took this time to look down again. Tears began to fill your eyes. This man was supposed to be the love of your life, your soulmate, and here he was - unable to see the same colors as you.

It’s been a year and a half since you’ve met Newt. As of now, you were helping him research animals for his new book. Sure, it was hard knowing that he couldn’t see the same as you when you were around, but there was that small sliver of hope that still remained in your brain. Maybe it would just take him time to realize that you were supposed to be his soulmate? After all, there’s no way you couldn’t be.

Right?

As of now, you were in Newt’s case, sitting at his desk and editing his book. It was coming along well. There was still much research to be done, and Newt still had to write about some other animals, but you really felt like the book was coming to a positive end. You just hoped that you could continue traveling with Newt once his book was finished. You cherished the friendship you had with him, even if he didn’t think of you as a lover.

Meanwhile, Newt was keeping the case on top of his lap. The both of you had decided that it’d be best to board a ship to New York for your next adventure, and now it was really happening. Newt recommended that you stay in the case to keep the animals calm, and also so that he wouldn’t have to pay for another ticket. Props of having a magical case people can fit in. 

Once the ship had arrived in New York, Newt walked off the boat and went through customs. There were many other things that had happened, but Newt had refused to tell you of the events. As of now, the both of you were stuck in an apartment with two sisters. One was named Tina, and the other was named Queenie. Tina seemed to be quite nice, and so was Queenie. Newt had pulled you out of the case to introduce you to the both of them, and you learned that Queenie was a legilimens and Tina worked at MACUSA. There was also another person there, a man named Jacob. Newt told you that Jacob was just someone he met, which sounded quite suspicious, since Newt wasn’t the one to go up to strangers and talk to them. To be honest, all of this seemed suspicious.

Not only had the two of you been thrown in a strange situation, but Newt had been acting quite weird since he pulled you out of the case. You were both sitting on the couch, waiting as the Goldstein sisters prepared something to eat. When you asked Newt questions, his answers would always come out clipped and short. Not to mention, when he had introduced you to that Tina girl, he had been fidgeting so much you thought something was wrong. However, Newt wouldn’t answer any of your questions, leaving you annoyed and tired.

Queenie called for Newt and you to come sit at the dinner table to eat. Jacob had already been sitting there, fork and knife in his hands, ready to eat the delectable food. Newt sat down next to Jacob, while you sat next to him at the head of the table. Tina sat in front of Newt, while Queenie sat in front of Jacob.

You all began to dig in, except for Newt and Tina, who had been staring at each other ever since they sat down.

“Are you guys ok?” you asked.

Newt didn’t break his gaze from Tina. “W-we... Tina, can you...?”

Tina smiled and shyly looked down before bringing her head back up again. 

“I think you’re my soulmate Newt.”

No. 

This can’t... That’s not what was supposed to happen! He was supposed to be mine... mine.

Tears started to cloud your vision. You immediately dropped the silverware you had been holding, your appetite completely gone. The chair you had been sitting on screeched as you pushed back and ran out of the apartment. 

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

You continued running out of the complex, tears streaming down your face. After all this time, he wasn’t even yours to begin with. All that time wasted, hoping that he’d realize he was yours and you were his. Thoughts of having a family together, dreams of being able to travel and grow old together, all gone down the drain. 

Numb.That was all you felt as you kept running out on the streets, not even knowing where you were going. You bumped into numerous people, yet you kept on running. Once you started to run out of breath, you slowed down and walked into an alleyway, leaning against a wall and sliding down it. You fisted your hair and cried. It felt like your heart was broken in a million pieces.

What’s the point anymore? You’ve loved him for such a long time, only to have you feelings thrown away for a mistake made by the gods. What a tragedy, knowing that those beautiful colors you only saw around him was a mistake. What a waste of time and energy.

What a goddamn waste. 

Back in the apartment, everyone was staring at the chair you had last sat in. Jacob slowly started to begin eating again while attempting to start up conversation with Queenie. Tina was looking at Newt, analyzing his confused facial expression.

“Newt? Is your friend... ok?” Tina reached over the table to hold onto Newt’s hand. Newt looked down for a little bit, before shrugging off her hand and standing up from his chair. 

He rushed over to the coat hanger and grabbed his blue coat, wrapping it around himself. “I have to go find her.”

Queenie abruptly stood up from her chair, causing it to shriek loudly. “No, Newt you can’t.” She knew what you were going through, and she also knew that you needed time to think.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry Queenie but I have to go. I don’t want her to get hurt.” Newt grabbed his suitcase and began to make his way to the door. Queenie rushed towards him and grabbed onto his arm, stopping him from advancing any further.

“Newt, she needs time to think. I know you’re close friends, but I think It’d be best if we leave her be.”

He shrugged off her hand and looked up at her. There was a long pause, before he remembered that she was a leglimens, meaning she knew why you had left.

“Queenie... Why did she leave?”

Queenie immediately took a step back at that question. “Newt, no. Don’t ask me that. Please don’t try to use my ability to gain access to another person’s feelings. You need to talk to her on your own.” She then turned away and started to walk back to the kitchen. Newt ran his hand through his hair in stress and set down his suitcase. He proceeded to take off his coat and hang it back up.

“Queenie I’m sorry. I should’ve never asked you that, it was impolite. You’re right. I’ll just wait until she comes back.” Newt took a seat on the couch and hunched over his knees. He was extremely worried about you, and he was confused as to why you had left so abruptly. 

Tina walked over to Newt and sat down next to him. She began to rub small circles into his back, assuring him that everything would be ok. 

But for you, everything was so far from ok

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ALRIGHT!!!! So I decided I would write a second part to this, because I made this wayyyyy longer than I intended for it to be. I really hope you like it though!! Also, feel free to send in requests!!! 

Love ya guys <3